The Inescapable
by b-w-williams
Summary: Jack and Ianto's relationship is moving in a strange and dark direction, but new problems are on the horizon. Hope of a cure for Gwen's illness arrives in a familiar form, but can anything ever be that easy for Torchwood...?
1. Prologue

**Title: **The Inescapable

**Summary: **Jack and Ianto's relationship is moving in a strange and dark direction, but they have little time to adjust to this development before new problems arise. Hope of a cure for Gwen's illness arrives in a familiar form, but can anything ever be that easy for Torchwood...?

**Series: **Third in The Undeniable Series - reading the first two might not be necessary as I've included short re-caps here to get everyone up to speed!

**Warnings: **Language and smut!

**A/N: **Okay, here we go at last. This was going to be called 'The Undeniable: Part Two', but there's so much going on in this half of the story that I thought it needed it's own title. In terms of the timeline, this starts a few weeks after the final chapter of Undeniable.

**

* * *

****The story so far:**

**The Uninvited**

An alien with psychic powers and a grudge against Jack attempts to take revenge for a crime the Captain doesn't remember committing. Made aware of Jack's immortality through a chance encounter with John Hart, the alien, (self-named Lurrelia) has decided that, if she can't kill Jack, she will make him suffer as much as possible instead...by destroying everything he cares for on Earth.

Using her mental abilities, she takes command of Ianto's mind, twisting his senses until he can no longer be sure that his emotions or thoughts are his own. As well as making Ianto betray his friends and colleagues, she – in a particularly petty turn of events – distorts his pain receptors, meaning that every time Jack touches him, the Welshman feels physical agony.

This situation is naturally troublesome for the overly-tactile Captain and, as a result, Ianto is frequently exposed to unintentional pain at Jack's hands. But whilst Lurrelia anticipates Jack to be overwhelmed with guilt at the distress he's causing, Ianto is strong enough to move past the pain, accepting and acknowledging it so that he can endure and enjoy Jack's touches once again.

Ianto's willpower in dealing with this pain serves as a great asset when the team finally tracks down Lurrelia and confronts her in an explosive showdown...

**The Undeniable**

Having dealt with the threat of Lurrelia, things seem to have returned to normal, and yet Ianto remains quietly troubled by the fact that he lost control of his body and mind to an alien being. Accustomed to being highly disciplined, he feels he now lacks the strength to regain the calm self-control that had made him so useful in the past to both Torchwood and his Captain.

Ianto seeks to retake command of his life by creating situations where he has no control at all, thereby making his normal day-to-day problems far less challenging. To achieve this, he employs the services of a professional sadist called Alex, and for a while he's able to disguise his failing restraint.

Then Gwen is infected with a deadly virus to which there seems no cure. With her life slipping rapidly away, Ianto can see the torment in Jack's heart, as it becomes clear he will soon lose her. Knowing that Jack cares deeply for Gwen, that he loves her despite never acting upon it, Ianto is overwhelmed by both jealousy and sorrow as he realises that Jack will never feel that strongly for him.

Alarmed by these destructive emotions, Ianto's carefully arranged mask slips and Jack notices that something is amiss. He confronts the young man, and although Ianto refuses to admit anything is wrong, Jack now picks up on all the clues that suggest he is greatly troubled. Ianto continues to shun Jack's attempts to help, forcing him to take another approach: he follows Ianto to Alex's home, where the dark truth is finally exposed.

Jack is furious that Ianto has allowed an outsider to have so much influence over him and risked the security of Torchwood, but, more than that, he's confused that Ianto didn't come to him with this problem. He cannot understand why Ianto would not trust him, as his friend and lover, with such a secret.

Fearful that Ianto will go off and do himself more harm, Jack confines him to the Hub and proceeds to wear down his patience and defences until eventually, pushed to the edge, Jack can see the other man's breaking point rapidly approaching. This is when he acts and, unbeknownst to the immortal Captain, this is when he forever binds Ianto's heart to himself.

For it turns out Ianto has been resisting sharing such an experience with Jack out of fear that it would cause him to fall completely and utterly in love with someone who can never love him in the same way. He has tried, and failed, to avoid it, and now two new problems have emerged: accepting that he loves Jack, and making sure that Jack _never_ finds out.

* * *

And now, **The Inescapable**...

* * *

"What are you thinking about?"

Jack had appeared behind him without a sound, without even a displacement of air, but Ianto gave no indication at all of being surprised by the Captain's sudden arrival.

"Life," he replied absently, eyes fixed on Owen and Tosh below, who were openly bickering over something on Owen's computer screen.

He'd come up to the metal gallery above the Hub, drawn to the quiet darkness where he could look down at his world without being seen himself. Since waking that morning, Ianto had been beset by a feeling of dejection the likes of which he hadn't felt for a long time – not since the days Lisa had been hidden in the lower levels, in fact – and had spent the next few hours entirely detached from everything about him.

"You might be here a while then."

Ianto gave a bland smile, though he needn't have bothered, considering Jack's position meant he was unable to see, and thus appreciate, the effort. "About how life goes on," he qualified. "It always goes on."

A soft snort of laughter brushed over the nape of Ianto's neck. "Well, that's kind of the point. If life didn't go on, there wouldn't _be_ life."

"Yeah, but..." The young man sighed. "It's just...Gwen's not dead, and we've not given up on her, but it's like we've accepted that she's not here anymore. It doesn't feel right."

"We're doing all we can," Jack said quietly. "But it isn't healthy to dwell in grief when other people need us."

"I know. I do know that, and I agree, but...it still makes me feel guilty."

Jack was silent for a moment. "We can go through the archives again if you want?"

"No, I know we've found all there is to find in there," Ianto replied with a shake of his head.

"So what do you want to do?"

"I don't know." He sighed again. "There's nothing we can do that we aren't already doing, but I feel like I should be trying harder somehow."

"Just you?"

Ianto said nothing, and yet provided Jack with a clear answer. He fancied he could feel the Captain scowling at the back of his head. "So now you think you're to blame for this?"

"No. No, I'm not that egotistical. But I made you waste so much time on me, on my...problems. That time should have been spent looking for a way to help Gwen."

"I _did_look for help. You even came with me one night," Jack reminded him. He stepped forward and Ianto tensed, just a little, not from fear but from the intense awareness he had of the other man's body so close to his own. "But there was nothing to find, so why chase our tails when we have other obligations in the meantime?"

Again Ianto gave no reply, hesitant to admit that Jack was right.

"You know Gwen would hate to think people were suffering because we only on her and not the Rift."

The logic was sound and Ianto couldn't dispute it, yet still the guilt remained. Arms slipped around his waist and Jack leaned his chin on the younger man's shoulder, following his gaze down into the chamber below.

The sensation of Jack's body against his own was by no means a mystery to Ianto, but the subsequent emotions that now arose within his mind were definitely a new development. The thoughts and vivid memories of what the hands splayed over his chest could do sent chills along Ianto's spine, a blend of fear and exhilaration...and desire.

Ianto turned his head away, so he couldn't see Jack even from the corner of his eye. That was the main source of the guilt, he realised; the fact that, despite the severity of Gwen's condition, he had gained something so devastatingly wonderful in the past few weeks. Something he had no right to possess, something that he had, in fact, wanted to avoid possessing, and which he had failed terribly at evading.

"You going to come back down?" Jack murmured into Ianto's ear, one finger slipping between the buttons of his shirt to reach the warm skin beneath. "Or do you want me to keep you company for a while?"

The question, so innocently phrased, was far from innocent in meaning, and the delicate touch sent a shiver of expectation through the young man. What Jack offered was not something to even be considered whilst they were out in the open, only partially hidden from Tosh and Owen's sight. But whilst Ianto knew he couldn't allow it, it was still incredibly hard to resist with Jack's arms wrapped so tightly around his morose body.

It had been getting easier and easier to submit to the Captain recently; easier to ignore the prudent voice in his head that warned against giving Jack so much power. And yet despite that disturbing fact, doing anything up on the balcony in the middle of the day was just one step too far for Ianto. He slapped the hand questing further into his shirt and stepped smoothly away, casting a dark look over his shoulder that made it clear he wasn't going to just roll over and do _everything_ Jack wanted.


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: If it seems I'm not quick in the update department, blame Sherlock fic. I'm so addicted right now XD. Fortunately I'm not tempted to write any myself (yet) so it's still Torchwood all the way, wweeeeee! Enjoy!

* * *

Rain had saturated Cardiff for three long weeks, a seemingly endless deluge that, whilst not exactly unusual, was nonetheless detrimental to the city's ambience. That Sunday morning, however, the downpour had finally come to an unexpected and abrupt halt. The sky had cleared to a bright ice blue, the sun shone unfettered by even the thinnest of clouds and whilst the roads were still damp and the chill breeze crept through every layer of clothing, it was still a very beautiful day indeed.

Which was frustratingly contrary to Ianto's persistent grim mood.

As he turned his car a little too sharply into the next corner, a squeak of surprise from the passenger seat broke the heavy silence in the vehicle. He glanced across at Toshiko and gave her a weak apologetic smile.

"Um," she said, and the smile faded as Ianto realised what that noise meant. "I know it isn't any of my business, but do you want to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" he forced himself to ask, hoping she would sense his desire to most certainly _not_ talk about it.

"Well, about you and Jack. And the other thing too, I guess." She didn't sound very sure of what she was trying to say. "I mean, after he told us about...you know...and after he confined you to the Hub..." she scowled, her mouth working around words that wouldn't form, "...then all of a sudden you're allowed out on your own again, nothing else is said about it, and now I don't understand what's going on at all!"

The last few words were said with clear frustration and Ianto was stunned by the emotional outburst.

Since Jack had not only discovered his secret but also callously revealed it to Tosh and Owen, things had been incredibly tense within the Hub. After he and Jack had come to a wary understanding, however, the open hostility had shifted to something that involved only the two of them. Ianto knew the others would be fools not to have at least _considered_ what might have caused the situation to change, but they had been wise enough to refrain from asking questions or trying to interfere.

Until now, it seemed.

"Tosh, I'm really not comfortable discussing this. It's private."

"It isn't _that_ private," she protested. "We all know what you were doing."

Ianto's hands clenched around the steering wheel. "Jack only got you and Owen involved to force me into a corner. It worked, it's over, and everything's fine again."

Tosh bit her lip, frowning as though she couldn't decide whether to drop it or keep pushing. When she opened her mouth it became clear she'd chosen the second option. "You don't seem fine," she said quietly. "You're still acting strangely around Jack. I don't think I've ever seen you so on edge with him before, not like you've been the last few weeks."

"Because normally we're so very affectionate?" Ianto asked wryly.

"That isn't what I meant and you know it." Tosh watched him drive for a few minutes, the weight of her eyes an unwelcomed distraction. "He stopped you seeing that man," she said. "But did he make you stop everything?"

"Tosh..."

"You're going to say I have no right to ask, but I do! I'm your friend and I'm worried about you." She continued to stare at him, expression pained. "I'm scared you'll get hurt and I don't know what to do to help!"

Ianto said nothing for a long moment, attention fixed on the road ahead as a wave of guilt swept over him. It seemed to be one of his more frequent emotions these days, and he wasn't entirely sure he was happy with that fact. But happy or not, he was nonetheless affected by it. "We came to an agreement that I wouldn't see Alex anymore," he said at last, though he decided quite firmly not to explain what now took the place of those visits. "Jack trusts me to keep my word, which is why I'm no longer a permanent resident of the Hub."

"So you just stopped? All that trouble, all the secrets, and you just gave it up like that?"

"I can't really explain..."

"Try."

"Tosh," Ianto sighed. He didn't know what he could say to ease her concern, other than the truth, and that simply wasn't going to happen.

Things had been rather intense the past few weeks, as he came to grips with the evolution of his relationship with Jack – if indeed it could be called a relationship – but Ianto couldn't deny that the stress and worry that had commanded his life before that point seemed to have lessened somewhat. However, it still troubled him to put so much power into Jack's hands, when he couldn't be entirely certain that it was safe there.

The confidence he held in the immortal was almost an ethereal thing. He trusted his life to Jack, but his heart was another matter, and his feelings on that issue swung wildly depending on the situation. Of course, because Jack had already made a slave of Ianto's entire being, the question of whether he relinquished his heart willingly or not was moot, but that didn't stop him from brooding about it on occasion. And perversely, whenever those moods struck him, Jack would unfailingly notice and seek to relieve his anxiety by distracting him in the only way he knew how. It was a vicious circle that Ianto could see no end to, nor even be sure that he wanted it to end.

Those moments with Jack weren't the same as the sessions with Alex, which had been physical rather than sexual (at least up until the last two) but as this was _Jack_, it seemed only fitting that the best way he could provide all the necessary elements to calm Ianto was through sex. They had flirted with various forms of light bondage but, for the time being at least, it appeared that Jack's more prominent command of Ianto's body was enough to satisfy him. That in itself was another point of concern for the young man, because if he required so little from his lover but unquestionably dramatic elements from Alex, then it confirmed his fear that, right from the very beginning, he had wished for Jack to control him in such a manner.

And, quite frankly, that scared Ianto even more than when he'd been paying Alex to hurt him.

He sighed again. "You don't want to hear it, Tosh, believe me. Isn't it enough to know that I'm not putting everyone at risk anymore?" Toshiko didn't seem entirely convinced, but she remained silent. "Look, Jack's made it clear he's keeping an eye on me. Even if I tried to go and...y'know...he wouldn't let me. He'd stop me right away. You know he would."

Tosh finally looked away from him, chewing on her lip again. "I suppose you're right." She said nothing more and Ianto breathed a silent sigh of relief. If she had any intention of truly probing the shift in his relationship with Jack, it would thankfully not be today.

"Where are we going anyway?" Ianto asked after a moment, hoping to nudge the conversation into safer waters.

"That self-storage place down near the industrial estate," she answered, clearly glad for the change of topic. "The sensors picked up some peculiar temporal movement there."

"Peculiar? Peculiar how?"

"Well the energy readings aren't like any I've seen before. It isn't strong, but it's continual. I've been tracking it for..." she checked her PDA, "seventeen minutes and twenty-three seconds."

Ianto pursed his lips in appreciation. "That _is_ peculiar," he agreed, mentally scrolling back through his memories for any other instances of such prolonged Rift activity. There weren't many; the Rift was too narrow (if such a description could be used on the abstract entity) to result in that kind of thing. There was only the occasional splutter, resulting in tiny cracks through which the odd alien slipped, but it always closed immediately afterwards.

Of course, when the Rift was purposefully opened and held ajar, _that_ was a different matter; then everything depended on the power of the device manipulating the Rift. There were few such machines in existence on Earth that could produce the colossal level of energy required to pry it open and Ianto doubted very highly that one would reside in a storage warehouse on the edge of an industrial estate.

Just as that thought passed through his mind, Ianto reached the turning he'd been looking for and took them down the curving slope towards their destination, no longer requiring Tosh's directions as he immediately spied the bright green and purple building further along the road. In the sunlight it was almost blinding and he grimaced, unimpressed by the gaudy colour scheme, despite its effectiveness against the grey that dominated the site beyond.

He turned into the car park and immediately stamped on the brake pedal, bringing the car to a rather ungainly halt. Leaning into the steering wheel and staring up through the windscreen, his eyebrows rose towards his hairline at the sight before them. "Might that be the curious temporal movement?" he asked.

Tosh didn't bother to answer and they climbed out of the car, attention fully on the sky. It looked almost as though a tiny thunder storm was occurring a few metres above the ground: a storm without clouds, merely bright streaks of light crackling in mid-air from some unknown source. The atmosphere around them felt charged, causing the short hairs at the back of Ianto's neck to stand up and a metallic taste to form against the roof of his mouth.

"I may have to reassess my comment about it not being very strong," Tosh announced, having produced a scanner from her pocket and directed it towards the anomaly.

Ianto looked around, seeing nothing in the car park that could account for the show overhead. "But still naturally occurring, right?" he asked with some trepidation.

Tosh pulled a face. "Doubtful."

"Bollocks," muttered the Welshman. If the lights weren't the result of one of those weak occasional splutters, then the only other possibility was that the Rift was being opened intentionally. And as he'd already confirmed the lack of anything suspicious around them, it meant the responsible party was on the other side of the Rift.

Sensing irrational panic rising within himself, Ianto closed his eyes and forced his lungs to draw in a deep breath. When the effort was made to open the Rift to _reach_ Earth, it was rather more alarming than the other way around – point in fact being that the last two creatures to elbow their way into Cardiff had been a homicidal alien with a score to settle and the never-welcome John Hart. It was no wonder his heart had just skipped a beat...and not in the good way, either.

"I could be wrong," admitted Tosh, eyes flicking up briefly from her scanner.

She rarely was, but Ianto appreciated the empty words anyway, for they shook him from memories he'd rather not relive right then. Or ever. He turned back to the car and retrieved a bag of equipment from the back seat, pulled out another scanner and joined Tosh in gathering data on the oddity above them.

After a few minutes, he realised that Tosh was pouting upwards, evidentially having learnt nothing from the device in her hand and had thus resorted to the backup method of _looking_. "The lightning is strange," she said pensively. "There should be a visible source point for the strokes, but they're appearing all over the place."

Ianto followed her gaze, eyeing the spot in the sky crawling with strings of light and shrugging. "Bizarre floating lightning," he clarified. It didn't seem so very strange to him after some of the things they'd encountered in the past.

They separated, each edging in a different direction as they attempted to find something to explain the anomaly.

"The readings are almost off the scale now," Tosh announced with wonder, when they stood with the faux storm between them. "But they're not right." She frowned, shaking her head in confusion. "I can't put my finger on it, but they're not _right_ somehow."

"It's been twenty-three minutes," Ianto noted, without looking away from his modified PDA. "Could this just be a new aspect of the Rift? A big, but natural, opening that has no cause or purpose?" He tilted his head thoughtfully. "I want to call it a hiccup. Is there a purpose for hiccups?"

Tosh didn't respond to his weak joke, her creased brow making it clear she was troubled to distraction by the mystery before them. Ianto lifted a finger to his ear and opened the comm. to their colleagues. "Jack, quick question. How often does the Rift open without anything coming through?"

There was silence for a moment, but Ianto knew the Captain had heard. Then, "You mean nothing was there?" he asked, the frown evident in his tone.

"Oh no, there's a pretty light show right above our heads, but so far no unwanted visitors have appeared."

"So far?" Jack echoed. "It's still open?"

"Yep."

"And it's not been opened our end?"

Ianto glanced around the car park again. "Not unless the device that opened it is invisible. We're outside and the place is pretty much deserted, except for some topiary. Can topiary manipulate time and space nowadays?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Jack replied. "Keep your distance, okay? We're on our way."

"You caught the Weevil already?"

"It slipped back into the sewers before the chase really got going. We'll get it next time."

"Understood," Ianto grunted and disconnected the comm. without a word of farewell, not even a general quip about the other two men losing a lone Weevil.

Tosh cast him an odd look but said nothing.

Dark mood or not, Ianto made sure that Tosh followed Jack's instructions, insisting that she move further back and ignoring her protests about a few feet likely making no difference should the strange lights actually do anything. He then conducted a quick check of the nearby warehouse to make sure there were no witnesses, and subsequently thanking whatever deity might be listening that it was a Sunday and the storage place was closed for business. As far as he was concerned, one less person drugged at his hand was one less name on his list of reasons to feel guilty.

As Ianto walked back to Tosh, circling the lightning at a safe distance, a strong wind picked up, howling through the empty car park within just a few seconds of forming. Leaves whipped past them, painting the path of rushing air as it traced a large loop around the flashes above.

"Where did that come from?" Ianto asked. He hurried to Tosh's side and they stared in wonder at the pattern the leaves were making.

"I don't know," she answered, having to raise her voice over the increasing noise.

With excellent timing, the SUV squealed around the corner at that precise moment and slid to a smooth stop behind them. Jack and Owen tumbled out, eyes already on the lights in the sky.

"What the fuck is going on?" Owen shouted bluntly in greeting.

Jack jogged to the waiting pair and peered over Ianto's shoulder at his PDA. The younger man instinctively leaned towards the inviting heat of Jack's body and he looked back to meet his lover's eyes, seeing the same awareness reflected there.

"Look at the trees," Owen declared, interrupting the silent and slightly uneasy exchange. "There's not even a breeze anywhere else."

"Tosh, can you tell what it is?" Jack asked, moving towards the lightning and leaving Ianto to exhale deeply and force his mind back on track. Now really wasn't the time to be distracted by the Captain's intoxicating presence.

"Other than the fact it's an impossibly large build up of temporal energy?" replied Tosh. "Not yet, no."

"Can anyone else hear that?" Ianto asked, tilting his head and listening to the wind. The roar of air and the crackling of lightning had become almost deafening, but within them was another sound, a rhythmic pulsing that didn't seem to fit.

After a moment Jack laughed loudly and turned to his colleagues with a huge grin upon his face. "I know precisely what, or should I say _who_, that is. Though he doesn't usually make such a grand entrance."

A light went on in Ianto's mind. "Your Doctor."

"My Doctor!" Jack crowed. "He must have finally decided to come visit us!"

"So that means this isn't the Rift at all!" Tosh exclaimed with clear exasperation. "No wonder the readings didn't look right!"

Jack's cheerful expression faltered at her comment. "That's a very good point." He span back around towards the temporal storm. "The mainframe should have alerted me if the Time Vortex was suddenly active on Earth."

The initial elation that Gwen's last hope had finally arrived vanished as quickly as it had appeared, but before any theories could be posed, a high-pitched keening filled the air, followed by a strange wet squishing noise.

Jack took a few steps backwards, until he was in line with the rest of his team, and then put out his arms to move them even further away.

"This isn't normal, I take it?" Ianto asked dryly, glancing around to make sure nothing else had changed whilst their concentration was on the stationary lightning.

Beside him, Jack was frowning darkly up at the sky.

"What's the matter?" Ianto pressed, leaning in to make sure the Captain heard him over the wind.

Jack shook his head. "It shouldn't be like this. I think something's wrong."

Ianto winced. "Wrong-bad or wrong-weird?" he asked. "Because I'm not sure I want to be standing this close if it's wrong-bad."

The throbbing sound increased, as did the squelching, and a shape began to form in the middle of the pocket of lightning. It was a large, dark, rectangular box and Ianto immediately recognised it as the Doctor's ship, having done more than just a little research on the extraordinary alien when Jack had vanished earlier in the year. The young man watched with fascination as it gradually solidified before his eyes, bobbing in the tumultuous air, the lightning drawn to it like a giant conductor.

The wind buffeted the ship, turning it this way and that, and as another side of the cuboid was revealed to the onlookers, it became clear that there was something attached to it that shouldn't have been there.

"What is _that_?" Tosh cried out, eyes wide at the sight of what appeared to be a giant slug clinging to the ship.

"It looks like the ones back at the Hub," Ianto said.

"Only bigger," added Owen. "Don't suppose that could be a coincidence?"

"Hardly," said Jack, "but I don't think this one is as harmless as the others." He squinted, face etched with concern. "None of them had even a fraction of the energy this one's showing."

"So what do we do?" Ianto glanced between the screen in his hand and the alien. He couldn't make sense of what he was seeing at all, the readings a bewildering mix of some he recognised and many more that he didn't. Jack was right, however, this new creature was far livelier than the foot-long brown slugs they'd found earlier that month.

Jack drew his Webley: lifting, cocking and aiming it in one smooth motion. "I say we get it off there, before it does any damage."

Ianto exchanged a look with Tosh and shrugged before pulling out his own gun. Owen had drawn his without hesitation and fired along with Jack, whilst Ianto and Tosh held their weapons at the ready, waiting to see if additional fire-power was required.

The bullets pierced the fleshy body with loud wet thumps and the creature squealed in pain. Its grip upon the TARDIS gave way and it fell to the ground in a flash of golden light that had no apparent source. The ship itself teetered in the air for another moment, finally becoming entirely solid, and then dropped three metres to the tarmac with a tremendous crash. The wind stopped just as abruptly and the lightning winked out, leaving the car park silent and empty.

Apart from the blue police box and glowing alien blob, of course.

"Doctor!" Jack shouted, running for the ship. He kept his gun trained on the alien, even as he pounded on the door, and nearly fell inside when it was yanked open without warning.

"Captain!"

Ianto watched with undisguised interest as a man emerged from the strange spaceship: he was slighter than Jack and dressed in a rather more timeless outfit, but the same sense of agelessness surrounded him and it was impossible to deny their similar, and yet entirely different, presence within the Universe.

The reunion was not as Ianto had expected. Jack swayed forward, looking for all the world like he wanted to sweep the newcomer up in an enthusiastic hug, but he held himself back for some reason. The other man, the Doctor, made no such subconscious move at all. He merely nodded with familiarity at the immortal man, shoved his hands in his pockets, and proceeded to look around him in fascination, as though he'd never seen a car park before.

_Curious_, Ianto thought, though beneath the confusion was a telling whisper of relief that they hadn't embraced like lovers meeting after years of separation. Ianto knew the Doctor was the only person in existence with whom Jack could hope to find nigh-on eternal companionship and he was immeasurably envious of that fact.

"Whoa, this thing ain't dead!" Owen announced suddenly from Ianto's side, breaking though his contemplation of the new arrival.

The Welshman glanced across to see that the alien was indeed moving once again. "Wonderful," he said, grateful for the distraction, and lifted his gun.

"Is it just me or is it _glowing _as well?" Owen asked, screwing his face up in disgust at the slug-like creature squirming on the ground.

"Oh, that'd be the Artron radiation," the Doctor announced cheerfully, moving away from Jack to join them. "So, who's going to make the introductions then? I'd try and guess your names but Jack didn't-"

"Radiation?" Owen interrupted, ignoring the Time Lord's question. He took a cautious step away from the now-shining alien. "Is it safe?"

"Oh, sure, you'll be fine." The Doctor waved a hand casually. "You've probably been exposed to worse from your Rift anyway." His eyes flitted over the writhing being, a slight frown creasing his brow. "You didn't have to shoot it," he told Jack.

The Captain was slowly approaching the alien, Webley still out and ready. "It looked like it was causing you trouble. I was trying to help."

"Yeah, big help, thanks for that." The Doctor drew in a breath through his teeth. "Of course now it probably can't get back into the Vortex by itself so we're going to have to lend it a hand."

"Lend it...?" Jack began to protest. "It was going to damage the TARDIS!"

"Nooo. Well, maybe a little. But it didn't mean any harm, it was just a bit peckish, that's all." Another nonchalant wave of the hand. "And in heat."

Though everyone else remained silent, Ianto simply couldn't let that one pass. "In heat?" he echoed.

"Yep!" the Doctor replied with a grin.

"As in spring-time, mating season, horny birds and bees heat?"

The Doctor gave him a look of alarm. "You know about the Pink-Horned Mili-Bees? Earth isn't supposed to discover them until 2115."

"He means horny as in sexually excited," Jack explained with amusement. "Not horny as in...horny."

"Pink-Horned?" Owen asked. "We discover alien bees on Earth with pink _horns_?"

"Well, yes," the Doctor said, eyes darting between the humans to gauge their reactions. "Of course they're really just a sub-species of the race that already relocated here-"

"The bees already _here_ are aliens?" Owen cried, expression becoming more and more bewildered by the second.

"Didn't Jack tell you?"

"No!" He glared across at the Captain. "Apparently our glorious leader didn't think to share that little detail with us."

Jack rolled his eyes and turned away from the confounded doctor to study the creature at his feet. Tosh was right beside him, raptly scanning it with the device in her hand. It twitched as they watched and then reared up suddenly with unexpected vigour.

"Hah!" Jack cried in surprise, leaping back and pulling Tosh with him. "No you don't!"

The four members of Torchwood simultaneously lifted their guns again as the alien wriggled in the puddle of glowing 'blood', seemingly trying to reach Jack and Tosh.

"Any idea what it's doing, Doctor?"

"Well, it's sensitive to the energy from the Vortex, so it probably just recognises your..." the Doctor hesitated, "..._unique_ presence, Captain."

Jack grinned. "It's called animal magnetism. No being large, small or slimy can resist me." He looked over at Ianto. "We're gonna need something to put it in. See what's in the SUV."

Ianto knew perfectly well what was in the vehicle and he doubted any of it would be able to hold the huge creature before them. Still, he moved towards it to double-check, only to stop when the alien began to make the same keening noise they'd heard earlier. Glancing back he found it had grown almost twice in size and its 'back', or at least the upper part of its body, was rippling with movement.

"Uh, now what's it doing?" Owen demanded. He took a step back and crashed into Ianto, who automatically steadied him before he could fall.

The creature's back continued to undulate, as though hundreds of smaller beings were moving beneath the surface, and then the glowing flesh spilt into countless lengths, lifting like the spines of a hedgehog.

"Ooo," exclaimed the Doctor with rather inappropriate excitement.

"The energy readings are rising," said Tosh, glancing between the alien and her scanner. "They're reaching even higher than before."

"Doctor?" Jack prompted urgently.

The Doctor gave a shrug. "I guess it's trying to get back into the Vortex, which would be ideal. It looks like it's recovering from being unjustly shot so it might be able to manage it."

Jack growled. "How about next time a giant glowing slug is eating your ship I'll be sure to send it a sternly worded request in writing to stop? I promise not to do anything proactive or, I don't know, _helpful_."

Ianto sighed at the bickering and then tensed in alarm as the points of the creature's spines rose sharply, aiming in his and Owen's direction. His eyes wide with foreboding, he felt a sudden flash of concern that the end he'd thought was the head was in fact quite the opposite.

Taking a few steps to the side, Ianto pushed the other man along with him, much to Owen's displeasure, and sure enough the creature seemed to track their movement. It began to writhe even more violently, the end nearest to them curling up as though ready to lash out. The noise it was making grew even louder.

"If anyone's thinking of doing something just in case it _isn't_ about to leave, perhaps they should do it now!" Ianto called out, moving Owen both sideways and backwards, with the alien's spines following them all the way. "It seems to have taken a shine to Owen and I."

"More like eyeing us up for a bloody meal," Owen muttered from his side, grabbing Ianto's arm and pulling him even further back. "We should get to cover."

"I couldn't agree more." Ianto risked a glance over his shoulder to see they were nearer to his car than the SUV. "You take the driver's side, it's closer and you can't risk being injured. I'll-" he broke off at the simultaneous sounds of a high-pitched squeal and rapid gunfire. His head whipped around to see the alien moving towards them, at a far greater speed than he would have thought possible.

Shoving Owen towards the car, Ianto emptied his clip into the creature as he moved aside, hoping to draw its attention away from his irreparable colleague. The bullets seemed to have no effect at all this time, but the prickly alien did indeed follow him instead of Owen.

He saw from the corner of his eye that he was getting closer to the garishly painted warehouse and slid a new clip of ammo into his gun, praying that another round would be enough of a distraction to let him reach the corner of the building.

As he glanced back and took aim at the creature, finger already squeezing the trigger, Ianto realised he was too late. One of the bright spines shot like a dart from the slug-like body, whistling through the air to pierce right through the middle of his chest.

The world exploded in a flash of blinding gold.


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: I haven't watched DW in ages, so sorry if the Doctor seems a bit OCC! (Also, if there's any confusion, it's Ten!)

* * *

Jack and Tosh backed away as the creature began to move with more fervour, crushing their assumption that it had been badly injured by their weapons. It seemed the success of dislodging the thing from the TARDIS had merely been a fluke and Jack scowled unhappily as it rose, snake-like, to loom above them.

The creature's 'head' tracked the movement of Owen and Ianto as they edged away, before darting suddenly towards them. Jack stopped retreating, snapping his arm up once more and firing the last two bullets left in his gun at the alien slug, though he didn't hold much hope of it having any significant effect this time. Tosh followed his lead beside him but, as he'd feared, the alien continued unimpeded.

A feeling of dread filled the Captain as he watched Ianto push Owen towards the safety of his car and then drew the alien away. It was clear the spines on the creature's back were a form of protection, but some deep-seated instinct told him they were offensive as well, so when one detached itself from the slug's body and flew straight towards Ianto, he wasn't surprised.

He _w__as_, however, alarmed enough to yell out Ianto's name in helpless warning as the projectile speared through the young man's body, slamming him into the wall behind and pinning him there.

A sympathetic feeling of pain struck Jack in the chest and he threw himself forward, conscious not only of the others at his heels, but also of the alien closing in on the impaled man. He loaded his Webley as he ran, the action swift and seamless from years of practise.

The surprisingly fast creature beat them to Ianto, oozing up against him until the Welshman was completely hidden from sight. "Doctor?" Jack called out. "How do we stop it?"

"Good question!" the Time Lord responded. "I don't know!"

Jack growled and leapt at the enormous slug the moment he was close enough, his momentum throwing the alien to the ground with him upon it. Luck kept him from coming into contact with the vicious barbs slowly sinking back into the alien's body, but instead he found himself caught by the thing's sticky underbelly. He grunted and tried to wrestle his revolver free; not that he had any idea where to shoot, or even if a close-range shot would do any harm, but he wanted his weapon ready nonetheless.

The Doctor slid to a stop beside the struggling immortal, his Screwdriver pointed towards the creature wiggling beneath Jack and the alien's movements abruptly became slower and heavier. It even shrank a little, allowing Jack to pull his hands free at last from the alien slug's 'foot'.

"Perfect!" Jack cried, trying to shake the gloop from his Webley as he quickly examined the alien's body for weakness. Faced with just about any other enemy he would have gone for the eyes, but there was no obvious sign of where those delicate organs resided in the fleshy creature. There was, however, a slight distortion in the alien's abdomen, which he guessed was either its mouth or genital opening and which certainly yielded when he shoved the barrel of his gun into it.

"Wait!" the Doctor protested, but Jack ignored him and pulled the trigger. He didn't stop until the gun clicked empty, then sat back upon the creature, panting as he watched carefully for any sign of life. There was none.

Jack gave a grim smile of satisfaction and looked up at the Time Lord. "How did you slow it?" he asked.

The Doctor's expression was clear, but his eyes told another story: one of both disbelief and resignation. "Distorted it senses a little," he replied in a flat tone. "Impaired its sight and hearing to disorientate it without causing any pain."

Jack snorted and struggled to his feet, his clothes slick with the viscous goo of the alien's underbelly.

"I've never known them to get so aggressive," the other man was saying to himself, but Jack had no interest in what was or was _not_ their usual habits. He turned away from the creature's body, able to focus on Ianto now that he was sure the threat was neutralised, and hurried over to where Tosh was already hovering by the injured man. He looked around for Owen and saw him dashing back from the SUV, medkit in hand.

"He's got a pulse," Tosh said, her fingers against Ianto's neck, though she was standing at arm's length and warily eyeing the bright spine protruding from the young man's chest.

"Good," Owen muttered as he slid to stop beside them. "Though God knows how he survived that."

Jack scowled at him. "It's a requirement of Torchwood employees not to die until they're allowed to. You should know that." He leaned over Ianto's other side and patted his cheek. "C'mon, wake up." He pressed his fingertips to the sticky skin of Ianto's throat, despite Tosh's reassurance, and was relieved to feel the throb of blood there.

Jack sought out the Doctor with his eyes. "What do we do about this?" he demanded, waving a hand helplessly at the visible half of the glowing spine. The rest of it had gone straight through Ianto's torso and embedded itself into the wall behind him, inadvertently holding him upright and immobile.

"I'd advise against removing it just yet," the Doctor said with a grimace. He was frowning down at his Screwdriver again. "Oh, now that _is_ interesting," he announced, moving closer to the little group around Ianto.

He said nothing else and Tosh was the first to crack. "What is?"

"Hmm?" the Doctor said, then seemed to realise he'd stopped talking. "Oh, right! I was just wondering why the Kalkerifeenian went for this young man rather than myself or the Captain, seeing as we've got more residual radiation than anyone else, but it seems your friend here has a little secret stash of radiation himself." He pointed at Ianto's left wrist. "And it's pooling right here in fact."

Tosh turned to Jack, lips parted to speak, but Owen beat her to it. "Must've been his psychic bracelet," he muttered, attention otherwise fixed on the medical scanner he was waving over Ianto's body.

Jack glanced sharply at him. "The band had nothing to do with temporal energy." He frowned and then noticed the questioning expression upon the Doctor's face. "There was an incident a few months ago," he explained. "Ianto ended up with a band of metal fused to his wrist that strengthened a psychic link between himself and a telepathic alien." He shrugged. "But it wouldn't have exposed him to that kind of radiation."

The Doctor merely raised an eyebrow and Jack knew the gesture meant the Time Lord suspected there was more to the story. "Okay," the immortal agreed. "He _did_ get pulled through the Rift at one point, but surely one has nothing to do with the other. I mean, how could the radiation gather in his wrist anyway?" He was half tempted to question the Doctor's claim that there _was _such radiation present in Ianto's body, but he couldn't really deny the fact that the alien creature had attacked Ianto and no one else.

"It's quite simple actually," the Doctor responded. "When the metal absorbed into his skin it made his body a virtual sponge for the radiation." He tugged at an ear. "You probably shouldn't have allowed that," he added with disapproval.

"What?" Tosh breathed. "No, the band wasn't absorbed, it fell off. Didn't it?" she asked Jack, who in turn was frowning at the Doctor.

"When he reappeared it was already gone," Jack said numbly, realising as he spoke just how naive his words sounded.

"And you assumed that meant it had just fallen off," the Doctor said. It wasn't a question.

Jack looked down at Ianto's wrist. It was hidden by the long sleeve of his jacket, but Jack knew it still bore the faint white scars from the alien metal burning into his skin. He'd examined them a few times whilst Ianto had slept, but never dared mention them when he was awake, aware the young man would not welcome such a conversation.

"We knew the devices were intended to be absorbed by the bearer," Tosh was telling the Doctor. "But the process can't have been that quick. We would have noticed."

Another realisation struck Jack, accompanied by yet another sensation of failure. _So many clues missed._ "He didn't know how long he was gone," Jack said. "It was only a few hours for us, but to Ianto it could have been more...much more."

Tosh gaped at him, astonished. "I don't understand."

"He said being in Lurrelia's world gave him sensory overload. Time lost meaning to him, amongst other things."

Tosh gasped and pulled her hands into her chest, subconsciously seeking comfort from the unexpected news. "I didn't know that," she murmured. "He never said."

"He didn't really want to talk about it."

"I don't blame him," the Doctor piped up. "If his senses were so badly affected, he was probably only transported partway to the other world and trapped at the fringe of the Rift. That would have driven a weaker person mad, you know."

Jack swore viciously, but thoughts of Ianto's past suffering would have to wait until later. What mattered now was his current state of health and they had already wasted too much time speculating instead of acting. "Owen?"

"His pulse is weak but steady," the medic immediately responded, attuned to the intonation of Jack's voice. "We should be all right to move him, but..." he trailed off, scowling helplessly at the bright object protruding from the young man's chest.

Jack knew exactly what he meant. "What do we do, Doctor? How do we get this thing out?"

Instead of an answer, his question was met with a loud gasp as Ianto jolted abruptly back into consciousness and although Jack was already holding the injured man up, both Owen and Tosh leapt forward to keep him from moving and causing any more damage to himself.

"Ah!" Ianto cried, gritting his teeth in pain. He started to look towards his colleagues, but noticed the spine in his chest first. His eyes widened in shock. "Ow!"

"Really? Ow? But that's barely a splinter," Jack said with forced cheer.

Ianto's head rolled heavily to the side, dazed eyes peering up at the older man. His expression was pinched and he grasped Jack's arm with shaking fingers, mouth opening to likely give a pithy retort, but a strangled groan emerged instead.

The noise startled his friends: Owen and Tosh because they knew Ianto had always handled any injuries without real complaint and Jack because he now knew that Ianto could take rather more pain than anyone had realised.

When Ianto's body then began to convulse around the unnatural spike, both Jack and Owen hurried to tighten their hold on him. "Tosh, get the gauze from the kit!" the medic shouted as Ianto heaved in another spasm and a large spot of blood seeped through the material of his jacket. "Shit!" Owen went on, tearing at Ianto's clothing and baring his blood-streaked chest.

Jack felt as though he'd been punched in the stomach when he saw the amount of blood smeared across Ianto's pale skin. The creature's spine seemed to have entered neatly, but Ianto's thrashing was causing it to tear further into the flesh around it.

Tosh stood up from rummaging through the medkit, her hands full of white gauze. She too hesitated at the gruesome sight, eyes rounded with fear, and Owen was forced to snatch the fabric from her. He thrust half of it towards Jack and they wrapped the absorbent padding around the glowing protrusion. Within moments the material was bright red. Owen barked out some more orders, telling Tosh which of the pre-filled syringes to give him, whilst Jack grabbed more gauze sponges from the limited kit to replace the used ones.

Jack looked back at Ianto's face as he held the pads in place and saw with great relief that his eyes had parted into narrow slits again. "Hey," he said, freeing a hand to lift the young man's chin. "Can you hear me?"

"No," Ianto replied thickly, his head dropping limply to the side.

"No you don't!" Jack said, grasping his face firmly. "Don't fall asleep."

Ianto groaned, forcing his eyes to open a little further and squinting at the man before him. "What did you do to me?"

Tosh gave an involuntary – and slightly hysterical – giggle at his immediate assumption and Jack pretended to glare at her. "Hey, I didn't do anything. You got skewered by the big alien slug, remember?"

"The _radioactive_ alien slug," Owen put in and Ianto's attention shifted to him with doubt in his expression. The other man nodded towards his chest and Ianto looked down, eyes widening once more in shock to see the glowing spike sticking out of his body.

"Oh," he said and then his eyes slid shut as he passed out again.

"Doctor, isn't there anything you can do?" Jack asked desperately, still staring at Ianto's ashen face.

"I..." The hesitation surprised Jack and he glanced back to see the Time Lord studying Ianto with wide eyes. He shook his head in denial. "I don't know. This shouldn't be happening. The spines are partially gaseous, like the Kalkerifeenians themselves, so it should have dissipated into his body by now, paralysing his muscles and stopping his heart."

"This doesn't look much like paralysis," Jack pointed out with barely contained anger. "What do we _do_?"

The Doctor gave a helpless shrug. "It's probably the metal in his body. If it could lock the energy from your Rift into his body, maybe it's reacted with the poison and stopped it from doing what it should."

"That wasn't an answer," Jack said, glaring, before being drawn back around as the young man managed to regain consciousness yet again.

Fixing his attention on the spine, Ianto drew in a sharp breath, the reality of it sinking in at last. He began to hyperventilate, gasping in fear and agony and his hands came up to pull at it. "Get it out," he cried through gritted teeth. "Jack! Get it out!"

"No, Ianto, don't." Jack tried to catch his hands but his own were slick with blood and alien slime. "Ianto, you have to calm down. We need to figure out how to remove it safely."

"No," Ianto moaned. "Nonono, it hurts." His body gave another spasm, more violently this time, and the tip of the golden barb broke free of the wall. Unsupported now, he crumpled into Jack's arms and they collapsed together to the ground. The fall jolted Ianto's wound even more, the wet gauze peeling off and fresh blood oozing out to cover them both.

"I'm pulling it out," Jack announced, unable to bear the twisted expression of anguish on Ianto's face any longer.

"No, not here!" Owen cried out, fury in his voice. "He'll bleed to death!"

"You won't be able to," the Doctor added. "Look, it's being absorbed now." Sure enough, the spine seemed to have shrunk, as though it were being sucked into Ianto's body.

"It's _killing_ him!" Jack argued, trying to hold Ianto still as he convulsed violently in his arms. The spike brushed against his shoulder, tearing through his coat and shirt and scratching the skin beneath. A searing flash of pain filled Jack's body briefly before his entire left arm went dead. He paused, surprised, and then dove for the glowing barb with his other hand, struggling to catch it as Ianto's body writhed and contorted. Though the spike numbed _him_, it clearly wasn't having that effect on Ianto and Jack was terrified by what else it would do if it was fully absorbed into his body.

He lost the feeling in his right hand mere seconds after he touched the spine, but by then he had clamped it so firmly around the protrusion that it didn't matter anymore. He told his body to hold on tightly and began to tug. There were no sharp edges on the glowing spine but it managed somehow to cut into the palm of his hand and his blood mingled with Ianto's, causing the scene to become even more grisly than before.

Jack was vaguely aware of the others moving around him, but all he could focus on were the screams escaping through Ianto's gritted teeth and the way his fingers seemed to be curling _into_ the previously solid alien barb. Although he couldn't feel anything, he could see the density of the object changing and giving way and he pulled harder, determined not to let Ianto's body absorb the entire thing.

With one last monumental effort, Jack yanked at the spine, falling backwards with a yelp as his hold gave way. Lifting his hand, he was somewhat relieved to see a shard of the glowing projectile still clenched in his fist, but it was minuscule compared to its original size. Jack scrambled back to his knees, flinging the spine as far away as possible as he did so and almost knocking over Owen who was pressing new pads against Ianto's chest.

"The rest of it..." Jack began, "where's the rest of it?" He shook his hands, trying to regain control of them, desperately needing to be able to touch Ianto.

"Gone," Owen replied curtly, busy trying to roll Ianto onto his side so he could reach his back. "Vanished." Tosh dropped to her knees to help and in a few moments they'd fixed clean gauze over the distinctly (and thankfully) smaller wound there. When they eased Ianto down again, Jack leaned closer, clasping the young Welshman's face with fingers that were rapidly becoming less numb.

"Ianto," he said, tone harsh with worry. "Ianto, wake up!"

"He's lost a lot of blood," Owen said needlessly and Jack practically snarled in response.

"Then give him some MORE!" he roared, fully aware that he wasn't helping, but Ianto was completely motionless after what had felt like an eternity of fierce convulsions and the abrupt stillness shocked the Captain.

He bent over the young man, ear close to his mouth and nose to listen for breath, whilst his fingers felt at his throat for a pulse, almost choking when he realised he couldn't find one.

Jack's stained hands had left red sticky fingerprints over Ianto's pallid skin but he paid the blood no heed as he immediately closed his lips over Ianto's, not to give him CPR, but to breathe life back into his body; life taken straight from his own eternal reserve.

The moment their lips touched, Jack felt an impossibly strong pull on something deep within his chest, like the air was being forcefully sucked out of his lungs, but he didn't fight it, instead he relaxed and simply let Ianto's body take whatever it needed from him.

A bomb could have exploded two paces away right then and Jack wouldn't have noticed, but the slight movement of the lips beneath his own had his immediate attention. The tugging in his chest gave way and he pulled back just as Ianto jerked once in his arms, eyes flying open in surprise.

Jack couldn't contain his grin at seeing that blue gaze blinking up at him. "Welcome back."

Ianto said nothing, eyes barely able to focus and a dribble of blood running from the corner of his mouth. Jack looked around quickly for Owen and found both the medic and Tosh staring at him. "He still has a hole in his chest," he ground out, spurring Owen back into action.

The young doctor returned his eyes to Ianto's blood-soaked wound. "We need to get him back to the Hub. I can't tell the extent of the internal damage here."

"Uh, maybe we should take him to the hospital?" Tosh asked tentatively, her face drawn and pale.

Jack looked from her to Owen. "It's your call," he said, trusting the medic to know the limitations of his own abilities.

"I can handle it," Owen replied firmly. "Not to mention the hospital would probably kick up a fuss when you insisted on going into the operating room with him," he added glibly. "Which I think is going to be a necessity." He nodded towards Ianto and Jack turned back in time to see the young man gulping desperately for air. The moment his breathing stopped again, Jack bent his head and let the energy from his body flow once more through their joined lips.

"I didn't know you could do that," the Doctor said when Jack pulled away.

He glanced up to find the Time Lord standing with his back to them and frowned at the dismissive stance. "It's only in certain situations," he explained. "I can't heal his wounds but I can bring him back from the brink of death."

The Doctor made to glance over his shoulder but winced and turned quickly back. "Right, well, carry on then," he said abruptly. "I'll go sort out the Kalkerifeenian." He hurried away, confusing Jack even more, but then Owen had finished making Ianto ready to move and his attention was needed fully on the Welshman instead.

It took a bit of awkward bending to get Ianto into the back of the SUV along with both Jack and Owen but it was done without too much jostling of the injured man. Tosh slid in behind the wheel and Jack leaned his head out the window. "Doctor?" he shouted, seeing the Time Lord busy throwing a silver sheet he'd retrieved from the TARDIS over the dead alien.

"Just a minute," came the reply, "unless you want me to make my own way there?"

"I'm not letting you out of my sight, just hurry up!"

When the Doctor finished and climbed in beside Tosh, Jack didn't miss the fact that he kept his eyes firmly forward; refusing to look at the dead, dying and deathless men in the back of the vehicle.


	4. Chapter 3

The office was dark, the air still and quiet. The only illumination came from the small desk lamp, a puddle of hazy light beyond which nothing else existed. Jack's mind wandered idle as he sat at the edge of that light, thoughts unclear and elusive. He felt comfortable, content.

There was a footfall behind him, someone climbing the steps at the back of the room, and then a rich clean scent he knew intimately swirled around him, making his heart leap.

Ianto drifted into sight, body hot and solid. He perched on the desk beside Jack, his favourite spot when they were alone, and rested one hand on the wooden surface in front of the seated man. Jack's gaze slid up his arm, over the familiar neat clothing, drawing out the moment before he arrived at Ianto's face.

A spark jumped between them as he met fathomless eyes, the emotion there plain for all to see, and Jack shuddered uncontrollably, breath catching in his throat. He reached forward, fingers brushing lightly over the other man's knuckles, hungry for contact, then darting for Ianto's cheek when that proved insufficient.

Breath loud to his own ears, Jack ran his fingertips over velvet skin, warm and soft. He followed the line of Ianto's jaw down to his chin, trembling as he neared semi-parted lips, before skipping up to trace the curve of one eyebrow. There were faint creases upon that perfect forehead, and with the side of his thumb Jack smoothed them away, drawing a smile from the lips he'd just avoided.

"Are you all right?" Ianto asked quietly.

Jack stared at his own fingers disappearing into Ianto's hair, conscious of the other man leaning closer. His free hand lifted to settle against Ianto's chest, the flesh there firm, solid, like a statue given life. Jack glanced to Ianto's face, ever growing nearer. _A statue of an ancient god_, he thought.

"Jack?" Ianto murmured. His lips didn't seem to move at all and his eyes flashed with intensity.

Hands appeared on the armrests of Jack's chair, turning it so they faced each other fully, and Ianto leaned over him, blocking the light from the lamp. Warm breath breezed over Jack's skin and his heart lurched again; when was the last time it had done that? When had he last gazed into another's eyes and found it so hard to look away?

"Jack?" Ianto breathed, but the immortal could think of nothing beyond the lips getting closer by the second and the hypnotic eyes pinning him in place...

* * *

"Jack!" The sharp sting of a slap to his face caused Jack to stumble, almost falling to the floor of the medical bay. He blinked and looked around, haze slowly lifting from his mind. "Right then," said Owen gruffly. "Don't even think about it."

"Huh?"

"Fainting. Don't do it."

"I didn't faint," Jack protested automatically. "I don't faint."

Owen gave a dour smirk and turned back to the metal trolley upon which Ianto lay, waiting to be transferred to the sterile table in the middle of the room. Jack followed, shaking his head to further clear the fog, then looked down at Ianto's pale face to gauge his condition. He frowned at the young man's expression, which seemed just as taut as it had been when they'd left the industrial estate, as though all the drugs Owen had pumped into his body so far had done not a lick of good against the pain of his injuries.

Still, as he'd remained on the edge of consciousness throughout the entire ordeal, Jack supposed at the very least it was a blessing that he wouldn't remember the trauma that twisted his features so alarmingly. They'd actually almost lost him twice on the way to the Hub and Jack had been required to breathe precious life back into his body each time, all the while weathering Owen's curious stare and wondering when the inevitable interrogation would befall him.

"Ready?" Owen was saying and Jack quickly moved to help him lift Ianto across to the table. His right hand and left arm had mostly recovered from contact with the alien barb, but his legs were beginning to feel a bit unsteady now that they had got Ianto back to the relative safety of Owen's domain. Pushing aside the strain on his own body, Jack concentrated on Ianto as Owen began to connect him to various machines dotted around the room. He didn't have to work hard at focusing on his ailing lover, especially as the Welshman suddenly stopped breathing for the fourth time that day.

When Jack straightened up again, Owen shot him a worried look. "Is that going to keep working?" he asked. Jack shrugged, ignoring the question, and watched as the stats from the machinery appeared on the far wall, along with a vaguely male figure whose torso glowed a disturbing bright red. Owen narrowed his eyes at the readouts and then set about attaching an IV line to the younger man's arm.

After a few minutes of Owen working in tense silence, Ianto gave a faint moan and opened his eyes. He winced against the bright light overhead and tried to sit up, only to be stopped by Jack's hand upon his shoulder. "What's going on?" he asked, voice thick and quiet.

"Owen's going to fix you right up," Jack told him. "Of all the ways to go, I'm sure you don't want it to be from an alien porcupine looking to spear a snack."

Ianto blinked up at him, blue eyes dull and unfocused. "That's a myth," he informed the Captain with some effort. "Porcupines can't propel their quills as weapons."

"Owen, you can stop, he's fine," Jack said. "He's lecturing me so he can't be that badly hurt."

Owen muttered something to himself on the other side of the room and Jack grinned down at Ianto. "I don't think Owen agrees with me. You want to let him stitch you up, just to humour him?"

Ianto began to roll his eyes as he lifted his head again, still trying to look at his own body, but gasped loudly in pain. One of the monitors gave a panicked squawk and he slumped back down onto the metal surface. Owen thrust an oxygen mask at Jack but the Captain cast it aside recklessly, grasping Ianto's chin instead and preparing to lean in.

"What are you doing?" Ianto croaked, clouded eyes still looking up at him.

Jack let out a relieved chuckle and drew back. "I guess I just can't help myself," he joked.

Ianto's gaze didn't waver and Jack found himself frozen in place. The change in their relationship seemed to have resulted in a strange consequence whereby Jack feared Ianto's suffering more than ever. Which was ironic, considering what he now did for (and _to)_ Ianto. It was apparently a different matter altogether when Jack was controlling the situation, as opposed to him being entirely unable to dictate what happened to the other man.

"Jack." The Captain reluctantly glanced up to find Owen glowering at him, discarded oxygen mask in his hand. Jack took it from him, fitting it into place and meekly turning back to the medic who was waving a hand-held scanner over Ianto's steadily bleeding wound.

"There's not nearly as much damage as there should be," Owen informed the room. "That spike thing seems to have missed all the major organs: lungs, heart, everything. There are a few bruised ribs but otherwise it looks like a mere flesh wound, which..." he struggled for the words, "...which is _impossible_ considering where it entered. It didn't even touch his spine, but the wound on his back is directly in line with it."

Jack frowned at the bloody circle of raw flesh. The barb had been at least three inches in diameter at its widest point and it had pierced Ianto high in his chest. Even if it had missed his heart by good fortune, it should have caused a lot more harm than Owen was describing.

"Are you sure you aren't healing him?" the young doctor hissed suspiciously. "Every time you..." he waved a hand towards Ianto's face, leaving the rest unsaid.

"What?" Ianto asked dumbly, voice muffled beneath the plastic mask. His eyes had become even more vacant with the analgesics being fed into his veins, but it seemed he still retained enough coherence to sense that something was up.

"I _did_ already mention that the Kalkerifeenians are partially gaseous, yes?"

Both Jack and Owen looked up to see the Doctor standing above them, eyes on the readouts projected onto the far wall. Tosh was at his side, grasping the railing with white-knuckled hands as she stared at Ianto's chest in horror. "The spines aren't for destruction, they're for paralysation," the Time Lord went on. "So they aren't designed to cause too much damage to the meat itself."

Jack's brain faltered for a moment over the idea of Ianto being 'meat' to the alien slug and he shuddered in disgust at the thought. By the greenish tint to Tosh's cheeks, he guessed he wasn't the only one who'd picked up on that word either.

"It obviously wasn't gaseous when it went into his chest," Owen grumbled as he pulled out a suture kit. "But how could it have torn the flesh and nothing else?"

"Fluctuating solidity?" The Doctor shrugged as Owen made a rude and dismissive noise. "Luck?"

Owen glanced at Jack. "You _are_ healing him, aren't you?"

"I'm not," the Captain responded. "I can't do that."

"Yeah, knowingly."

"What?"

"You can't _knowingly_ do it. I mean, you can bring him back with a kiss like Prince-bloody-Charming so why not heal him as well?"

Jack stared at Owen, surprised by the idea. It couldn't be possible, could it? He shook his head: definitely not. It was ridiculous and he refused to even contemplate the idea, for the alternative meant he would have been able to save so many people who had died in his arms during the years of his immortality.

Including Owen himself.

Jack saw the same thought reflected in the dead eyes staring back at him. "It can't be," he murmured, though he was struck by the sudden irrational fear that maybe it _was_ possible.

"He's off again," the Doctor announced cheerfully and Jack scowled up at the Time Lord's inappropriate joviality. Then he realised what he'd said and looked quickly to Ianto instead.

Sure enough the young man's breathing was becoming laboured once more, even with the oxygen mask still in place. Jack grunted in displeasure. "If I were healing him, he'd have stopped all these dramatics already," he pointed out curtly before pulling aside the mask and fitting his lips to Ianto's. "Perhaps you should get on with whatever you need to do, before this _does_ stop working," he said afterwards, gripping the table to hold himself upright whilst blood roared in his ears.

Owen called Tosh down to help with the things he needed to do by touch – directing her to feel in his place – whilst Ianto murmured to himself in a drugged haze. Reassured by the muttering, Jack felt safe enough to turn away from Ianto and glanced towards the Doctor again, who appeared even more uncomfortable now. His canny eyes were sweeping over everything in their scope, with the pointed exception of the very centre of the room where Jack stood. "What's _wrong_ with you?" the Captain demanded. "Do you have a problem with me trying to help him?"

"Not in the way you think," came the immediate response. The Doctor glanced towards him but winced as their eyes met. "It's unnatural."

"You've said that about me all along," retorted Jack with a weak grin. Really, after all that the Doctor had seen, was his ability to lend some of his endless store of life really so bad? "What's different this time?"

The Doctor's gaze slipped down to Ianto and then sharply away, a pained look upon his face. "It isn't you," he corrected. "At least not entirely you."

"What?" Jack asked, his frustration immediately morphing into shock. "What does that mean? It's Ianto?"

The Doctor shrugged and took a step back. "I'm not sure to be honest. But it hurts to look at you two every time you, y'know, 'bring him back'." He stuck his thumb over his shoulder. "So, I'm just going to..."

"Doctor?" Jack called out as the Time Lord vanished from sight without another word. "Doctor!"

He wavered on the verge of running after him, but then realised he couldn't move from Ianto's side until Owen and Tosh were finished sealing his wound.

* * *

Over an hour later and Owen had done all he could to ensure Ianto would recover fully from his wound, even going so far as to give Tosh a quick training session in neat stitching, rather than risking an unsightly scar by doing it himself.

Jack had continued to bring Ianto back whenever it seemed he was slipping away, thereby managing to completely confuse the young man, who didn't understand what was going on anymore. When he whispered in a drowsy voice to Jack, asking why everyone was fussing over him, the Captain had actually felt moisture in his eyes, relief filling him to hear the self-depreciating words.

Now Ianto was peacefully asleep, worn out by the events of the morning and the strain his body had gone through, and Jack, Owen and Tosh all stood around him, similarly exhausted by the ordeal.

"Thank you," Jack said into the silence, looking at the others before returning his gaze to Ianto's relaxed features. He combed his fingers through the young man's tussled hair, realising for the first time that they were both covered in slime from the alien slug and Ianto's chest was painted with drying blood.

_As am I_, he added mentally, grimacing down at himself and the dark smears upon his clothing. The coat especially was going to need some TLC, most likely including a trip to whichever drycleaners Ianto had charmed into taking their business without asking any awkward questions about such stains.

"Go take a shower," Owen said, pulling off his own bloodied gloves and apparently reading Jack's mind. "I'll clean him up."

Jack nodded but didn't move. "Tosh, can you find the Doctor and make sure he isn't causing any trouble? I'll be there as soon as I'm presentable."

Tosh gave her own nod and hurried off, whilst Jack lingered, making sure Ianto was breathing strongly. Fingers still in his lover's hair, Jack leaned down to press his lips to Ianto's damp forehead, marvelling in hindsight at the way his heart had twisted so painfully when presented with the young man's possible demise.

Ianto's brow tightened slightly, his mind clearly working overtime even as he slept, and Jack smiled fondly before finally dragging himself away to seek a hot shower and clean clothes.


	5. Chapter 4

A/N: Anyone still out there? Lol, sorry for the delay, as predicted I've been distracted by another project...whoops! This isn't going to be abandoned tho! Unless, of course, people lose their interest in my abuse of the boys... :( Things will get better, promise!

* * *

A little while later, Jack entered the lab to find Owen filling the Doctor in on Gwen's condition. Or rather he was _trying_ to, but the Doctor would interrupt every few minutes with a question that seemed entirely unrelated to the situation. Jack stood by and listened for a few minutes, feeling nostalgic at the Time Lord's display of boundless enthusiasm. He grinned as the Doctor flitted around the room, examining various objects with fascination, however there remained a shadow upon his mind and he was unable to ignore the allusions that had made earlier concerning Ianto.

The possibility that something else was wrong with the young Welshman, after almost dying from the wound in his chest, troubled Jack greatly. He was still having difficulty getting his head around what was going on between himself and Ianto, and he was definitely still concerned by Ianto's occasional resistance to his help, but that didn't stop him from having absolutely no doubt in his mind about needing Ianto to stay alive and safe. To that end, he was determined not to let the Doctor disappear without getting an explanation for what he'd said about Ianto.

"For fuck's sake!" Owen shouted suddenly, throwing his hands up in frustration. "Would you just stand still for five minutes and stop _touching things_?"

The Doctor glanced over his shoulder, grinning broadly at the other man without any sign of remorse. "But touching things is so much fun!" he announced with gusto. "You learn a lot by touching, y'know."

"Yeah?" Owen reached across the counter and retrieved a scalpel from a metal tray. "How about you come over here and I'll teach you something new?" he suggested, waggling the blade at him.

"Oh-kay, take it easy boys," Jack said, stepping further into the room. "This is all very much like a fantasy of mine, but now really isn't the time or place."

Owen transferred his glare from the Doctor to Jack. "Where the hell have you been?" he groused, aiming the scalpel at the newcomer.

"Showering," Jack replied innocently. "Like you told me to. Where's Tosh?"

Owen narrowed his eyes, unable to argue with that answer. "She escaped, leaving me to babysit your Doctor on my own. Who has been _no_ bloody help whatsoever, by the way. I don't know why you thought he would be, he hasn't listened to a word I've said. He's just been dancing around the lab like a hyperactive puppy that hasn't had the snip yet."

"Oh, come now," the Doctor retorted in a wounded tone. "That's a bit much isn't it? I'm standing right here."

"And apparently listening to me only when I insult you," muttered Owen.

"I'm sure he's heard everything you've told him, Owen," Jack said, trying to hide his smile and failing. "Haven't you, Doctor?"

The Doctor, who was now peering through the eyepiece of a microscope, straightened with sudden alertness. "Oh yes, every single word. Including inflections as a bonus!"

"See," Jack said to Owen, who gave a long-suffering sigh and dropped his scalpel back onto the tray. "Inflections as a bonus."

"That's fantastic," the medic grumbled. "Now if he could just inflect his way to mixing up a cure for Gwen, that'd be even better."

The Doctor stepped towards the other two men, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking back on his heels. "Bit of a pickle that one," he said, sounding rather more serious than before. "It's not an Earthly virus."

"No! Really? Surely not!" said Owen, eyes widening briefly before his expression turned dour again. "I'd guessed_ that_ much, Dr. Clever-Clogs," Owen told him coldly. "It's the insight into non-Earthly viruses that I need help with. You'd know that if you'd been listening."

"Oh you're so impatient," the Doctor declared with a grin, his moment of solemnity gone again. He leaned over and pinched Owen's cheek. "You know what they say: patience is a virtue, the best things come to those who wait, what's good for the goose...hang on, that one doesn't really work, does it?"

"Jack!" Owen cried in despair, slapping the Time Lord's hand away.

"Doctor," Jack said in response, sensing the need to step in before Owen truly cracked. "Perhaps you could indulge Owen with your full attention for just a little while? I'll let you play with the Pteranodon later if you behave now."

The Doctor's eyes lit up. "You don't have a Pteranodon!"

"I do," Jack assured him.

"No!"

"Yes."

"Nooo!"

"Yep."

"HEY!" Owen roared, brandishing his scalpel once more. "If you two don't shut up I'm going to kill you both and see which one comes back first!"

Jack smirked broadly at the others. "That'd definitely be me. I always recover the fastest, ready for the next round..."

"Jack," Owen warned in a low voice.

"I guess I'd better leave you to it then," the Captain declared, winking at the Doctor as he left the room.

He headed back towards the medical bay to check on Ianto – not that he expected the scene to have changed at all in the past fifteen minutes, but the need to reassure himself of that fact drove his feet there nonetheless. As he jumped down the first step, he found Tosh standing at the railing, watching over Ianto's slumbering form.

Slipping an arm around her tense shoulders, Jack pulled her close and she leaned into his side with a sigh. "I can't believe he's still alive," she admitted quietly, as though saying it any louder would keep it from being true.

"We were lucky," Jack replied. "_Very_ lucky."

"Because you can heal now?"

"Ugh, I'm going to kill Owen," he growled. "Again." He shook his head. "I can't heal anybody, Tosh. I just kept him alive whilst you and Owen sewed him up."

"But the way that thing went through his chest...it's impossible!"

Jack laughed softly. "We deal with the impossible every day and you're only just questioning it now?" He turned her around so she was looking up at him. "Listen, I wish it _had_ been my doing, I wish I could heal everyone's wounds and illnesses, but it doesn't work that way. The only reason Ianto really survived was because of the alien nature of that spine."

"Which broke his skin but didn't touch his lungs or his spine."

"Exactly. Something not from this world did something weird, is that really so surprising?"

She glanced away. "No, I suppose not. I just...if it had been because of you..."

It was Jack's turn to sigh and he drew her into the circle of his arms. "I know. I could cure Gwen in a heartbeat and I could have stopped Owen from dying." He kissed the top of her head. "I'm so sorry, Tosh."

She was silent for a while but then shifted in his hold, straightening her back and stepping away as he let her go. "Owen wants us to collect the Kalkerifeenian so he can dissect it later," she told him.

Jack nodded, recognising her need for the distraction of work. "Fair enough. There's nothing else we can do here for the time being anyway." He glanced down at his clothes and sighed with regret, envisioning more radioactive slime in his near future. "I shouldn't have bothered cleaning up."

* * *

The Doctor accompanied them back to the industrial estate; partly to keep an irritated Owen from punching him, and partly so he could deal with the mysterious grey sheet he'd thrown over the dead alien that morning.

Jack and Tosh exchanged a glance as they neared the scene of the earlier excitement. "This thing makes people want to keep away, doesn't it?" the Captain asked, kicking at the lumpy shape. He raised his eyebrows in surprise to find that not only was it solid, but it also clanged like metal. "I ask because I'm struggling not to climb back into the SUV and get out of here as fast as possible." He glanced at Tosh and she nodded back at him in agreement, a bewildered look on her face.

The Doctor crouched down and pointed his Screwdriver at the edge of the metal: instantly the solid cover softened again. "Depends on how you programme it." He whisked aside the sheet, revealing the creature beneath. It appeared to have decreased in size again, back to the three feet it had been when first out of the Vortex. "But yes, I thought it was for the best in case anyone stumbled past."

"That makes it slightly easier," Jack said, body relaxing as the tension created by the strange material vanished.

The Doctor shrugged as he stood up and looked around at their deserted surroundings. "I needn't have bothered apparently. What do you call this effect?"

"We call it a _Sunday_," replied Jack, voice lowering dramatically. "Nothing much to it, but it makes people not want to go to work. Or storage warehouses."

"Jack," Tosh admonished quietly, leaning over to take some readings on the new scanner she'd brought with her. "You said the radiation was harmless, right?" she asked, looking up at the Doctor.

The Time Lord pursed his lips. "Well, yes...but, all things considered, I wouldn't suggest you actually touch the creature."

"You don't know as much about the Kalkerifeenians as you thought, do you?" guessed Jack, taking some amusement in that fact.

"Their mating seasons are rather sporadic," the Doctor said with a shrug. "Naturally the records are a little spotty as a result."

"Maybe you should try to fill in the gaps in those records. Then maybe you wouldn't be stalked by aliens in heat and people wouldn't end up getting hurt."

The Doctor's expression shifted to one of slight pain. "Ye-ah," he said, drawing out the word in discomfort. "Maybe. But I didn't intentionally bring along a hitch-hiker, you know."

Jack glared at him, but it lacked any real force, and soon his mind shifted to another, albeit vaguely related, train of thought. "Speaking of which: shouldn't there be some pretty young thing nipping at your heels?" he asked, looking around as though he might have somehow missed the presence of another person nearby.

"Pretty young-?" the Doctor began with a frown. "Oh, do you mean Donna?"

"I suppose," Jack replied. "If that's who's following you around these days."

"Sure, though I wouldn't say she _follows_ me. She's a lovely girl – a redhead, the lucky thing – but she tends to voice her opinions quite loudly." The Doctor stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it to make his point. "More so when she's upset with me."

"She hasn't been making eyes at you then?"

"Good grief, no! There's none of that going on at all."

Jack chuckled. After having to break Martha's heart, it was probably a good thing for the Doctor to have found someone who clashed with him rather than inadvertently falling in love with him. "Where is she then? I'd like to meet someone who isn't afraid to put you in your place."

"Oh well that's charming, that is, thanks a lot. But you're out of luck because I dropped her off to visit with her family before coming here. Didn't think it'd be a good idea to bring her with me if there were viruses flying about all over the place."

"Too bad," Jack sighed with genuine disappointment. "Make sure you bring her around after all this is sorted. I think we'd get on rather well together."

"She'd eat you for breakfast," the Time Lord gravely informed him. Jack's face lit up and the Doctor sighed good-humouredly. "Anyway! I think it's best if we limit contact with it," he went on, nodding down at the dead alien. "Just in case the hormones are doing something a bit special to the radiation."

"Oh," Tosh said, looking suddenly worried. "Could it really be dangerous?"

"Well, normally no, not when it's just background radiation. But under certain circumstances, like when the Kalkerifeenian has been gorging on it, it might well be. So better to be safe than sorry, eh?"

"Oh," Tosh said again, then glanced at Jack.

He grinned back at her. "You'll be fine. I'm the only one touching it today."

She bit at her bottom lip and looked away guiltily. "I was thinking about Ianto, actually," she admitted and he laughed.

"I think it's done all it's going to do to him. Right, Doctor?" he added, turning to the other man and fixing him with a deceptively calm gaze.

The Time Lord pushed his fingers through his hair, attention on the alien. "Hmm? Oh yes, the damage's definitely already been done." He glanced up and then back down again quickly.

The Captain frowned, disturbed by his tone and the grim meaning lurking beneath his words, and he vowed again not to let him leave Earth without getting an explanation for such comments.

"Could it harm you?" Tosh asked the Doctor, unable to contain her curiosity. "I've read the reports on you, I know you're different, that you can't _die_ exactly, but could it damage your body? Or even bring about a...a change?"

"A regeneration?" The Doctor shrugged and hummed thoughtfully. "Don't know to be honest. Probably not. I'd like to think I've developed some kind of mutual agreement with the Vortex and its kin by now. Y'know, something along the lines of 'I don't abuse you, you don't kill me'."

"I'm sure it thinks very fondly of you," Jack said dryly. "No doubt it dreams about you at night."

"Now, now, Jack, don't get jealous, otherwise I'd have to point out how it allowed _you_ to come back from the dead, which is entirely contrary to all the rules of the Universe."

"Uh, that was Rose's doing."

"Yes, but the Vortex was working through her."

Jack stared at the Time Lord. "Are you suggesting it had a say in whether she brought me back or not?"

The Doctor hesitated, looking faintly alarmed by the idea himself. "Well...I suppose I am."

"So maybe I'm not as 'wrong' as you seem to think I am," Jack said, settling his hands onto his hips.

"Depends how you define wrong," the Doctor muttered quietly, before shaking himself as though to clear away the thought. "Maybe not," he admitted in a louder, firmer voice. "I guess we won't find out until later."

"What?" Jack asked sharply. "What does that mean?"

The Doctor gave him an amused look. "What do you think it means?"

Jack narrowed his eyes and said nothing. He knew very well what it meant, but then he'd always suspected it anyway: that not even the Time Lord could make sense of his unique situation and thus didn't know if there was actually a purpose for Jack's immortality. It was not at all reassuring to think that even someone in the Doctor's position had no idea about his role in the universe.

"Shall we get on with it?" the Doctor asked, when it became clear the other man wasn't going to respond. He nodded towards the creature lying at their feet and then crouched down, reaching for the alien only to have his hand knocked away by Jack's.

"You can't know for sure it won't force another regeneration," the Captain pointed out, his expression still dark.

The Time Lord shrugged and backed off, likely deciding it was best not to argue with him right then, and Jack went about moving the creature on his own into the large containment unit they'd brought along.

"Do you want me to get some gloves out?" Tosh asked as he circled the alien, trying to find an angle that wouldn't bring him into contact with the residual bumps of the numbing spines.

Jack snorted derisively. "Last time they soaked through in seconds, there's really no point."

He grabbed what he assumed to be the tail-end of the creature and tried to lift it, but it slipped immediately from his grasp. He tried again, wrapping both arms around the body, as close to the nodules on its back as he could get, and again it simply fell back to the ground with a wet thump.

All three of them stared down at the misbehaving alien.

"Are you sure you don't want me to..." Tosh began, but Jack held up a hand to stop her.

"No way. If nothing else, you don't want to get this slime on your skin, I think it's an irritant." He scratched at his palms as he spoke and then laughed aloud. "Okay, we're being stupid. Let's put the box on its side and I'll roll it in."

They all shared a sheepish look and moved to arrange the container next to the giant – and still faintly glowing – slug. Tosh and the Doctor held the box in place whilst Jack heaved with all his might to shove the fleshy body inside. He slipped a few times on the slimy ground and had to rest after getting the tail inside to catch his breath.

"At least it shrank a bit," Jack declared as he tried to wipe the goop from his skin onto his trousers, then lunged forward again, shoulder first, and ruining his shirt for the second time that day. "I doubt I'd be able to fit it all in otherwise."

His companions said nothing, focused on holding the box steady for him, and he shook his head in disappointment. "Oh, come on!" he cried, "Ianto's not here to do it, so can't one of you make the obligatory joke?"

Tosh ducked her head, trying to hide her smile, whilst the Doctor cocked his to the side. "About you being weak?" he asked.

Jack growled, baring his teeth as he gave one final mighty shove and the Kalkerifeenian's body slid into place. "Hah!" he cried, leaping to his feet and wagging a dripping finger at the Doctor. "Who are you calling weak now?"

The Doctor blinked. "I thought you called yourself weak?"

"Ack," the Captain said, dismissing the obtuse Time Lord with a flap of his hand. He bent down to seal the box, missing the sly grin spread across the Doctor's face, and then staggered, dropping back down onto one knee as a whoosh of air escaped his lips.

Jack looked down at his right hand, where the spine in Ianto's chest had cut into his palm. Before they'd left the Hub, Owen had sealed the wounds with glue, but now they were open again, bleeding profusely into the slime that coated his skin. He blinked, feeling suddenly light-headed and nauseous.

"Uh-oh," he muttered, before toppling to the side, his heart jolting to a stop mid-beat.


	6. Chapter 5

A/N: Mundgawil - I can't reply in PM, so I'll say it here: thanks for the review! In fact, thank you to everyone reading this story! I hope you'll stick around to see what I have in store for the boys ;)

* * *

There was a split-second of awareness before the muscles of Jack's heart remembered their purpose and began to force blood through his veins once again; a terrifying moment in which he truly felt the enormity of his deathless existence. Then the tightness in his empty chest urged aside the feeling of floating in a vacuum and he opened his mouth to gulp in a huge lungful of air.

The flood of oxygen roused his body quickly, igniting a flash of cold pinpricks as nerves reawoke with such abruptness that they fought against the process. Jack's entire body trembled with the shock of being dragged back to life and all he could feel for a time was the quivering of his own rigid muscles.

A few painful heartbeats later and his memory kicked in, recalling that once again he had died an unnatural death, and he blinked, wincing at the scrape of his eyelids and the pull on his skin where moisture had leaked from the corner of his eyes and then dried.

It was still dark after he had blinked a few times and whilst one deeply hidden part of his brain was leaping at the possibility that this was it, this was real death, the predominant and rational part knew that couldn't be so, not when he could feel a certain presence so close to his side: one which he could always identify, even in pitch black.

"Ianto," he murmured, coughing when the name croaked painfully through his dry throat. He rubbed at his eyes before pushing himself up into a sitting position with a groan, realising as he did so that he was in his own bed, down in the room beneath his office. Ianto was sitting on the edge of the mattress, so close that, when he sat up, Jack could feel the heat of the other man's body like a fire blazing mere inches away from his own cold flesh. "Ianto," he said again, trying to find his balance so he could free a hand to reach out and touch his lover.

He squinted, just able to make out the basic shape of the man sitting with him in the light that filtered through the slightly ajar hatch in the ceiling: Ianto's back was rounded, his shoulders hunched forward and he was looking at something in his hands which flashed silver as he turned it between his fingers.

A quiet metallic click filled the air and another flash of reflected light told Jack it was his own pocket watch that Ianto held and he smiled fondly until Ianto snapped the case shut again and began to speak.

"You were dead for twelve hours," he said quietly.

"What?" Jack asked, his own voice lowering despite the unquestionable privacy of the small bedroom.

"No one knew what to make of it, not even the Doctor, but it's obvious really isn't it? You saved me, over and over again, and doing so left you vulnerable when you came into contact with the alien." He paused. "You saved my life and I took yours in return."

Jack stared at the young man's profile, troubled by the flat tone of his voice. "You didn't take my life. I gave it to you." He slid a hand across Ianto's back, absently noting the lump of the bandages beneath his shirt. "But I came back, didn't I? I always come back."

"Not for twelve hours. You haven't been dead for more than an hour since..." Ianto hesitated and Jack could imagine the muscles around his eyes tightening with emotion.

"Since Abbadon," he supplied needlessly.

"When you didn't wake up immediately Tosh began to worry," Ianto continued, ignoring the memory of that dark time of betrayal. "She and the Doctor brought you back here straight away, but what could we do? How are we ever to know if your death is real? Do we lay your body out until it starts to decay, hoping you'll just sit up one day, back to normal again? Or are we supposed to put you into storage and let you wake up in your own coffin?" He drew in a breath which Jack could feel rattling through the hand he still held upon the other's back.

"It was only twelve hours," he pointed out, not quite understanding where these questions were coming from. Had he been out of it _longer _than the incident with Abbadon, they might be justified to worry, but only a few hours more than usual didn't seem nearly enough time to start thinking about entombing him in cold storage. "Shouldn't you be resting?"

"Don't change the subject," Ianto said firmly, rising to his feet and leaving Jack's hand to fall back into his lap. "You always play it down, every death, but I know it gets to you. I _know_ it does. And it affects us as well, but we're supposed to just pretend everything's fine, because you refuse to acknowledge how special it is."

Jack sighed quietly and eased his legs over the side of the bed. "It stopped being special a long time ago, Ianto," he said. "Now it just hurts."

That silenced the young man for a while, and Jack focused on working the kinks out of his neck before standing up and shaking the life back into his numb legs.

"I thought I'd killed you," Ianto whispered suddenly and Jack froze, an icy fist closing around his heart at the other's admission. "I thought you weren't coming back and it was because of me. Because you'd saved _me_."

The fear in his voice shook Jack and he took a step forward. He found Ianto easily in the gloom and slipped his arms around the rigid body, pressing their cheeks together. "Even if it meant never coming back," he breathed into Ianto's ear, "I'd still have done it."

A gust of warm air over his neck marked Ianto's dry sob and Jack held him tighter, though the tense young man didn't return the embrace at all.

"What time is it?" Jack asked after a few minutes, running his hands soothingly over his lover's back.

"Four," Ianto murmured, remaining motionless in his arms.

"In the morning?" Jack sighed in despair and pulled Ianto over to the bed. "You need to sleep, your body's still weak."

The Welshman shook his head in protest and tried to break free of Jack's grasp but he was still exhausted from his brush with death and the Captain was freshly revived: it was no contest at all.

"I'll stay with you," Jack assured him, pushing him gently down onto the mattress and climbing back onto it as well. Ianto remained silent and tense but allowed the immortal to pull a blanket over them both and then wrap the younger man in his arms again.

"Sleep," Jack commanded softly. "I promise I'll be here when you wake up."

* * *

Ianto returned to awareness with a burning heat pressing against the length of his body and thick heavy chains looped around his back, trapping him in the flames. It was a familiar sensation, one he'd woken to a number of times in fact, so it didn't take long for him to realise that the fire was the warmth of Jack's body and the chains were merely his arms holding him in place.

Ianto pried open his eyes with great effort; his internal clock telling him it was time to get up and the rest of his body telling him it desperately needed more sleep. Directly in his field of vision was the rumpled white cotton of Jack's under-shirt and as he drew in a deep breath, the unique scent of the older man filled his lungs. He shifted slightly in the Captain's arms and they squeezed him automatically in response. He smiled against the chest he was leaning on, the warmth and comfort almost enough to convince him to give into his body's need for rest.

Until his brain woke enough to remind him what had happened to Jack because of him.

He carefully began to move away, guilt clutching at his tired body, but when he paused to make sure he hadn't woken the older man, he found himself staring down at the peaceful expression on the sleeping immortal's face. Jack had promised to be there when he awoke, but the fact that he still slept on whilst Ianto was trying to escape only meant that he'd needed the rest as well. Ianto wanted to believe he would have stayed regardless but he was confident that, had it not been for his exhaustion, Jack would not have kept his promise.

Still caught in the circle of Jack's arms, he glanced up helplessly at the hatch leading out of the room, noting that it stood further open than before, showing more light about the edges than when he'd descended many hours earlier with Jack's body to begin his vigil. Someone had clearly come to check on them, to see if Jack had revived yet, and he frowned at the idea of being watched whilst he slept entwined with the other man.

The rest of the room was filled with familiar shadows, all of which he recognised easily, having spent more than enough time in it to find his way around in the dark, but none of it helped him in trying to extract himself from both the blanket and Jack's hold. And when he had completed a fruitless circuit with his eyes, he glanced down again to see Jack looking back up at him, blue orbs shining with twin reflections of the light seeping in overhead.

The Captain opened his mouth and Ianto was suddenly terrified by what he would say. Unprepared for a conversation of any nature, whether it be about his fear of having killed Jack or something else entirely, Ianto did the first thing he could think of to keep the other man silent and bent his head, covering Jack's mouth with his own.

Kissing Jack came as naturally as breathing, the initial tingle of contact quickly escalating until it felt like an electrical current surged through their lips, energy flowing into Ianto's body and setting his senses afire. He pressed down harder into the kiss, forcing Jack's lips apart and thrusting his tongue inside to taste him. His hands came up to curl into the Captain's hair, still picture-perfect after twelve hours dead, and he held Jack's head down when he tried to return the pressure and strength of Ianto's eagerness.

All at once, however, it was too much, and Ianto broke away, wheezing breath filling the quiet darkness of the tiny room. He wanted to crawl into Jack's skin so badly it constricted his chest like nothing else, not even the heavy chill of death, but he couldn't allow himself to feel that way, couldn't give into his need for this man who refused to offer the same in return.

Ianto let out another sob of frustration, caught between comforting self-denial and the heart-stopping admission of just how much he _needed_ Jack_._ He didn't know which of the two he wanted to claim victory over the other and the conflict hurt his heart so much that he could barely stand it.

Smiling in apparent understanding – which Ianto knew to be impossible – Jack stroked fingertips across his cheek and cupped his face with a lover's touch. He gently pulled Ianto's chin up, encouraging him forward with just a little pressure to bring their mouths back together.

The kiss this time was whisper soft as Jack took over, barely brushing his lips against Ianto's before withdrawing, waiting a beat, then repeating the teasing contact. The resistance that made Ianto's body shake was no match for such a delicate act and his quiet moan of protest emerged without conviction. Jack turned them, reversing their positions so that he leaned over Ianto instead.

The blanket vanished in the rearrangement and then Jack's fingers were slowly undoing the buttons of Ianto's shirt, his lips following after, ghosting over each new piece of skin as it was revealed. When he encountered the bandages that covered Ianto's wound the touch became even lighter, almost reverent, but did not stop.

Though gentle, Jack's fingers created miniscule twinges of pain, radiating out from the centre of Ianto's chest, whilst his lips soothed and warmed, and both caused tension to grow rapidly within the muscles of his body. This was not Jack's usual treatment at all: normally there was frantic disrobing and determined exploration, but even taking the injuries into consideration, this was softer than seemed possible. It was almost..._loving_...

Ianto lifted his hands to grasp Jack's arms, urging him up to lock their lips in a deep kiss and rolling his hips against the older man's to encourage something a little less dangerous. Jack merely chuckled and broke away after a few minutes. "Patience," he breathed, resuming his slow and torturous baring of Ianto's body.

Once the shirt was open, Jack's lips trailed a path back to his nipples, parting the gauze that covered them with his tongue and alternately licking and sucking until they stung from oversensitivity. Ianto gasped up at the dark ceiling as Jack blew across the wet flesh, making it tingle even more.

Fingers traced along Ianto's sides, following the curve of his bound rib cage, the slight hollow of his stomach and down onto his hips. A quiet groan escaped his throat as the movement of Jack's hands pulled the material of his trousers taut over his groin, pressing against the hardness growing there.

Jack moved his head back up for another lingering kiss whilst he unfastened Ianto's trousers and peeled the waistband of his shorts over his erection. The groan that hadn't completely died in the young man's throat rose again as his flesh was exposed to the warm heavy air of the bunker. Jack smiled against his lips and curled his fingers around Ianto's cock, moving along it with light, tormenting strokes. He twisted his hand with each upward motion, flicking his thumb across the leaking slit and making Ianto squirm beneath him.

Breaking the kiss, Jack moved down once again, this time to aid his hand's lazy attention by slipping his lips over the head of Ianto's cock. Ianto drew in a sharp breath, eyes rolling back as warmth engulfed him and Jack's tongue circled his engorged flesh. The slow tempo and the steady suction brought Ianto faster towards his peak than he thought possible, muscles tightening and a fire roaring to existence in his groin.

He reached for Jack's head, trying to push him into a faster rhythm, trying to disrupt the careful attention with a hard thrust upwards, but Jack's free hand eased his away and entangled their fingers together instead. The intimate gesture served only to heighten the effect of Jack's clever mouth and Ianto could feel his orgasm gaining even faster. It was unstoppable now, no matter that he struggled against his fervent reaction to Jack's tender behaviour, and when Jack swallowed around him, throat constricting tightly, he came with a strangled moan.

Jack's mouth was on his before the noise had finished escaping, tongue tracing the shape of his parted lips, rich with the taste of Ianto's pleasure. His hands ran over the young man's body, stroking and reassuring as Ianto came down from his soaring orgasm.

It took a few minutes for Ianto's breathing to settle, and all the while Jack kept up his gentle ministrations, unwittingly holding him upon that aching crest; not by touch but by the emotion that his touch evoked.

When at last his gasping quietened, Jack pulled away and eased Ianto's clothes the rest of the way off in silence. He repeated the process with his own and lay down beside Ianto again, his hardness pressing into the young man's hip, but rather than seeking to indulge it, he dragged the blanket back over them instead.

"Jack..." Ianto murmured, turning onto his side and reaching beneath the covers, only to have his wrists captured by strong hands and pulled up again.

"Shh," Jack breathed, wrapping his arms around Ianto and carefully rolling them until he was plastered to Jack's side once more. The older man touched his chin, lifting it to kiss him chastely on the lips before pressing his head back into place on his chest.

Held firmly in that warm embrace, unable to escape the consuming emotions stoked by Jack's affectionate performance, Ianto squeezed his eyes shut and prayed for sleep to overcome him quickly, to stop him from considering too deeply how much more it hurt to be touched with such false devotion instead of simple passion.


	7. Chapter 6

A/N: Wow, that was an unexpected hiatus! All I can do is apologize and give you this tasty treat to make up for it. Enjoy the mix of plot AND smut, wee!

randomidiotgenius: thanks for the lovely reviews! I haven't had lessons, no, but thank you for thinking I had! XD

* * *

Ianto winced as he reached the top of the ladder, wrapping one arm around his aching ribs before he climbed awkwardly up into the office. He paused to take a deep breath, trying to count the hours back to when he'd last taken any painkillers, then lingered further as he smoothed down his suit with care.

He was procrastinating and he knew it; dawdling as he tried to prepare himself for facing the others and, more precisely, Jack. His muscles were tight with unnatural tension and despite the long sleep he'd just woken from, he still felt exhausted, though that fatigue resided more in his soul than his body.

The news of Jack's death – and delayed revival – had come shortly after Ianto had emerged from his drugged haze, whilst Owen was painting a rather gruesome scene to fill the blanks in Ianto's memory concerning the attack. There had been no time for him to consider just how fortunate he was to have survived having an alien spine through his chest, no time to realise how close he had been to dying.

During his vigil at Jack's side, however, when each hour had dragged by slower than the last, his thoughts had turned to his most recent brush with death. There was little to be gained from replaying the memory of the alien lunging at him, of the searing agony burning through his lungs or of Jack's cold, solid body being wheeled into the Hub, but the scenes continued to flash endlessly through his mind regardless.

From Owen, Ianto had learned of the Doctor's assertion that the barb should have dispersed into his body and paralysed his heart, but of course no such thing had happened. Even more alarming, however, was discovering that the reason for the unusual reaction was due to the radiation he'd picked up from his trip through the Rift; a trip he wouldn't have taken if he hadn't been connected to a homicidal alien by both a strange metal bangle and a deadly intent to be rid of her influence over him once and for all.

The irony was profound – that he should be saved from death because someone who'd made his life hell had unwittingly dragged him into the Rift and forced him to experience something he never wished to repeat. He would have no issue putting his continued existence down to Jack's strange ability to breathe more than simple oxygen into the lungs of one on the verge of death, but he couldn't shake the notion that he should feel some kind of gratitude towards Lurrelia. It was a horrifying idea, considering all that she had put him through, but the thought nevertheless joined the others circling in his head; a spiral of horror that was broken only when, at long last, a sharp intake of air signalled Jack's return to the land of the living.

Drawing in his own deep breath, Ianto shook the memories slowly from his head, all the while feeling as though the walls of Jack's office were closing in around him. He urged his feet to take him out of the room and in search of something with which to distract himself.

The large space beyond was empty and only a fading scent of coffee lingered in the small kitchenette. He quickly set the machine working, movements automatic and the activity only just able to keep his troubling thoughts at bay. A few minutes later he lifted a full tray and made his way through the base to the lab, confident that anyone he found within would be eager for the stimulant.

"Oh, Ianto, you're a life-saver!" Tosh announced upon seeing him, hurrying over to take one of the mugs from the tray. She took a gulp of the hot liquid the moment it was in her hands, whilst Ianto noted the dark shadows under her eyes and slight trembling of her fingers.

"How's it going?" he asked casually, gaze searching the room and finding at least another three empty cups amongst the scattered papers, test tubes and bottles.

"Amazing," the over-caffeinated woman breathed, staring reverently into her cup and Ianto's eyebrows lifted in amusement. She looked up at him, apparently mistaking his expression for one of doubt because she then frowned and hurried to defend herself. "No, really, it is. I thought Owen had taught me a lot about viruses, but the Doctor's been pushing my understanding of biology and chemistry to the absolute limit. I can't decide whether to become a sceptic or ask him to marry me!" She giggled to herself for a moment. "The structure of the virus is fascinating," she went on in a rush and moved over to one of a half-dozen monitors in the lab. "Look," she said. "Isn't it beautiful?"

Ianto followed dutifully, bemused by her description. On the screen there was both an image of vague blobs of dull colour and an impossibly long chemical formula, and Ianto couldn't decide which of the two Toshiko would have deemed 'beautiful'. "Mmm," he said non-committally. "Very pretty."

Tosh flashed him a grin and moved around the counter, tapping at a keyboard with one hand and continually lifting the mug to her lips with the other. "Everything about it is unnatural," she explained. "It was _based _on a real virus, either the one we encountered before or a similar strain, but this version has been produced entirely from scratch and developed to this level in a laboratory."

"Wait a minute," Ianto said, his tired brain struggling to keep up with the rush of words. "The virus was _made_?"

"Yes, it's entirely artificial. Someone manufactured it, _designed_ it for a specific purpose."

"Who?" He shook his head at the banality of his own question. "Why?"

Tosh shrugged and gave another high laugh as she continued to make her way around the room, examining monitors and papers as she moved. "Who, why, when?" she sang out cheerfully. "Who knows! I keep meaning to ask the Doctor to wave his magic wand at the message pod; no doubt he'll be able to figure out something from it." She stopped suddenly and gazed into thin air, utterly and inexplicably motionless.

Ianto watched her, wondering just how many other used mugs were hidden around the room, until she suddenly burst to life again and skipped over to a microscope on another workbench. "The ingenious thing about it is its ability to adapt," she announced and it took Ianto a moment to realise she was talking about the virus again. "Owen threw everything he could at it and each time it was able to resist because it was constantly changing. _T__hat's_ why it seemed such an impossible puzzle, but the trick is to beat it at its own game, to fight it with something that adapts just as fast."

"Tosh," Ianto said quickly, before she could launch into another rapid burble of words. "Are you saying we _can_ fight it then? We can cure Gwen?"

"Of course we can!" she replied, looking up at him with shining eyes. "Once the Doctor recognised that it had been manufactured, we realised it would be easy to find the anti-virus!"

Ianto blinked, not entirely sure he was hearing her right. "Just like that? Just mix up a batch and _voilà, _we have a cure?"

Tosh gave a huff of uncharacteristic impatience. "Well there's a _bit_ more to it than tossing a few chemicals around in test tubes. We've got to design it and produce it, then find a way to introduce it into Gwen's body and then..."

"Okay, okay," Ianto interrupted, rubbing his forehead wearily. "I believe you. Please don't try to explain the particulars, I think it'll give me a headache."

Tosh nodded sagely. "Owen said that too, even though he knows far more about this stuff than I do."

"I'm sure that isn't true anymore," Ianto told her. "He's probably glad to have someone able to understand what he's trying to do. I bet you and Owen will have this figured out in no time."

"And the Doctor. Me, Owen and the Doctor." She giggled again. "That sounds like a sitcom."

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Oh boy," he sighed.

Tosh didn't seem to notice however, busy as she was eyeing up the tray still in his hand. She edged around the bench, closing in on him, eyes darting from the steaming mugs to his and then back again. "Are you going to drink those?" she asked, licking her lips in anticipation.

"Yes," Ianto replied firmly. "I'm going to drink _all_ of these _all_ by myself, because you, Toshiko Sato, are officially cut off."

* * *

As Ianto moved through to one of the smaller rooms off the main lab, Tosh trailed after him, empty mug clutched to her chest like a security blanket. He smiled to himself, amused but at the same time planning how to talk her into resting after her caffeine-fuelled all-nighter.

At the doorway the smile froze in place, as did his feet when he caught sight of the two men waiting within. Tosh walked into his back, but it wasn't enough to shake him from his surprise.

Owen's gaze went straight to the tray in Ianto's hands, eyes hungry for the stimulant, but it soon shifted to anger and disappointment when he recalled a second later that none of the cups were for him. It was an understandable reaction and, despite having that resentment directed towards him, Ianto thought nothing of it. Instead it was the Doctor who'd caused him to stop in his tracks, for he looked up and immediately grimaced; narrowing his eyes as though squinting at the sun.

Or staring down an enemy, perhaps.

Tosh slid around his side, squeezing between his arm and the doorframe to get into the room (and closer to the coffee) and this time the motion snapped him out of his sudden alarm. He willed his mask back into place upon his features, but then took an extra moment to study the alien amongst them.

He wasn't entirely sure what to make of the Doctor, knowing only the vague information Torchwood had gathered on him and what few facts he'd gleaned from Jack's very occasional comment about the Time Lord. Ianto hadn't been around him much since his arrival either, being injured, unconscious or watching over Jack for most of that time, so he'd not been able to form his own opinion on the new arrival. What he had noticed, regardless of that fact, was that when he _was_ in the Doctor's company, the alien seemed rather cool towards him...dismissive almost. Not that he treated the others as though they'd been friends for life, but he certainly acknowledged their presence more than his.

Ianto couldn't decide whether that meant he had offended the Time Lord in some way since he'd appeared in Cardiff, or if the Doctor had already decided he disliked Ianto before even meeting him. The second notion seemed far less likely in Ianto's opinion, as he doubted very much that Jack had even mentioned him when he'd vanished with the Doctor half a year earlier. Of course the remaining possibility that he'd done something to displease their guest did not seem highly plausible either and no amount of replaying the events of the past day in his mind could suggest what he might have done wrong.

The third option, whispered in a tiny voice from a dark corner of his brain, was that of jealously on the part of the Doctor for the relationship he had with Jack. Almost the moment he had thought it, however, Ianto had to bite back a laugh at the idea.

He'd easily identified Jack's infatuation with the Time Lord many months earlier, but the Doctor had so far shown no such feelings for the Captain, barely even blinking when the rest of the team had become increasingly concerned by Jack's failure to revive the previous day. Clearly the suggestion was born of Ianto's own feelings of envy; his unwanted cravings twisting the Doctor's behaviour into Freudian knots to force an explanation that simply wasn't anywhere close to being accurate.

"Ianto?" Tosh muttered from his elbow and the Welshman gave a start, realising that he'd let his mind drift a little too long.

"I didn't know if you'd rather tea or coffee," he announced, deftly swinging the tray back out of Tosh's reach and stepping further into the room. "So I made both." He set the tray on the counter and watched the Doctor's eyes sliding curiously over its contents. Tosh hovered beside him, body full of unnatural energy as she hopped from one foot to the other, clearly resisting the urge to snatch another mug from the offering before her.

"Coffee," Owen grunted from across the room. The Doctor looked to him in silent query, though Owen's attention was on the glass slides in his hands. "Trust me, you want the coffee."

"The tea isn't any good?" the Doctor asked, glancing back at Ianto and only scowling a little at him this time. Ianto suppressed a wince in return and tried to reassure himself that a scowl was an improvement somehow.

"Oh, I'm sure it's fine," Owen went on, entirely nonchalant as he fitted one of the slides into a microscope. "But the coffee's what you want."

It was an offhand compliment and Ianto smirked at Owen's back, well aware that the next would be a long time coming. As though hearing his thoughts, Owen's head whipped around and he glared over his shoulder at the other man, daring him to make an issue of it. Ianto wavered between giving into the sardonic comments collecting in his mind and letting it slide this once...after all, he did rather owe the medic for sorting out the gaping hole in his chest.

"It is," Tosh agreed enthusiastically, unwittingly interrupting the silent battle of wits. The Doctor cocked an eyebrow at her but took their advice, lifting a cup of black coffee to his lips, inhaling deeply and then taking a tentative sip.

"Ooh!" he cried, eyes widening. "That's like a good kick to both hearts, that is," he declared, staring down at the dark liquid with something akin to awe.

Ianto blinked at him, hand stilling halfway through passing across the small jug of cream. "Both hearts?" he echoed pensively.

"Alien," Owen helpfully supplied, whilst Tosh's head bobbed so fast it seemed about to fall off her neck.

"Fair enough," Ianto conceded with a shrug, before making a show of looking around the room. "So did I miss anything other than Toshiko's caffeine overdose?"

Owen glanced up from his microscope. "That wasn't my fault," he said, glaring balefully at his hyperactive teammate.

"Uh-huh," Ianto responded, unconvinced.

"I told her to go easy but she kept sneaking more." Tosh was doing her best to look innocent but Ianto could tell by the twin spots of pink upon her cheeks that Owen was telling the truth. "I couldn't keep an eye on her all night, y'know," the medic added.

"Uh...huh," Ianto said again, just as dubiously, and peered down at Tosh.

"I told Ianto about Gwen's cure!" she announced to the room in a bright voice, resolutely ignoring Ianto's gaze.

Owen rolled his eyes and Ianto got the impression he'd been dealing with this for hours. "It's not a cure yet, Tosh," he growled. "We've got a way to go before we can actually _make_ it."

Tosh pouted, whilst inching closer to the bench and the drinks, trying (and failing) to make the movement seem casual. "I told him that part too," she muttered petulantly to herself.

Ianto deftly slid the tray sideways without looking away from Owen. "So I probably shouldn't order any dinner for Gwen then?" he quipped, unable to resist when Owen adopted that impatient and patronising tone. The medic glared at him and Ianto turned to the other man in the room with a sudden thought. "Forgive my ignorance, but you _do_ eat, yes?"

"Oh I do," the Doctor assured him. "Quite frequently in fact." He was gazing around the room as though the grey walls were far more interesting than the conversation.

"Good. In which case, I hope you've been offered more than just a biscuit since you arrived." This was accompanied with a pointed look from the half-empty packet of Hobnobs on the table to Owen, who continued to glare at him by way of response.

"Your colleagues have been very hospitable," the Doctor assured him. "Though Miss Sato here assures me you're the one who usually looks after everybody."

Ianto smiled. "Well it is in my contract. Along with some other things I don't recall agreeing too," he added to himself with a bemused frown. "Anyway!" he went on, lifting his tray again. "I'll leave you all to it then. You'll let me know if there's anything you need?"

"Yeah, yeah," Owen said, waving him away as he returned his attention to his microscope.

Tosh watched longingly as Ianto moved back towards the door, taking the precious coffee with him, whilst the Doctor gave him an unreadable and piercing look. Ianto repressed a shudder, the attention chilling him even more than when the Time Lord had been ignoring him.

* * *

Five paces outside the door to the boardroom, Ianto pressed a palm to his chest, directly over his wound. Grown man that he was, he still felt on edge at the notion of meeting with his lover after the events of the previous night and the ache that he stirred with his hand provided another welcome point of focus.

He knew it was foolish to worry about something that couldn't be undone, but the fact was he'd failed to repress his emotions as well as he usually did in such situations and shown more of his hand than he'd wished Jack to see. Every day the mask seemed to slip a little further, exposing more and more of Ianto's feelings to detection: all it would take was Jack to really _look_ and the truth would be out. And then all that could follow was pain, whether it be from false promises or a firm statement of how certain lines would never be crossed.

Shaking away the thoughts before they forced him to turn back, Ianto strode purposefully forward and entered the boardroom without any sign of the hesitation that had slowed his steps outside. He found Jack within, sat along the side of the long table, and Ianto paused for the second time that day to study an alien who had entered his life like a whirlwind.

Jack's chin was cupped in one hand, elbow propped on the wooden surface, and his gaze somewhere in the far distance; the position might well have fooled another as being inconsequential, but Ianto could plainly see the faint creases on Jack's brow and the tension in the muscles around his eyes, all of which told the young man that something was amiss.

It wasn't anything bad, he was sure, but still something that could bring the interminable force that was Captain Harkness to a full stop and sink him so far into his thoughts that he didn't notice the arrival of another person in the room.

Ianto cleared his throat politely and Jack was suddenly on his feet, expression open and bright and an obvious cover for whatever deep matter he'd just been thinking about.

"Everything okay?" Ianto ventured, eyeing the other man warily.

Jack flashed his patented grin, hands spread wide in an innocent gesture. "It is now the coffee's here." He reached out for the tray and Ianto automatically moved closer to let him take a mug. The Captain inhaled the rich aroma with genuine appreciation but then proceeded to down the entire cup in two swallows.

Ianto rolled his eyes and put the tray down on the table, aware of the irony that he would allow Jack to finish the remaining drinks but intended to keep Tosh away from any form of stimulant for the next twenty-four hours.

"Aah," Jack sighed, swapping his empty mug for a full one. "That's better."

"If only you were able to work the machine yourself," Ianto said with a rueful shake of his head. "You could have all the coffee you wanted without having to wait for me to wake up."

Jack sat down again, wide grin still spread across his face. "If only," he agreed. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," Ianto replied, hand automatically smoothing down the shirt which hid the bandages wrapped around his torso. "Bruised ribs and a few stitches don't seem such a big deal these days. But more importantly," he added, "I've just come from the lab. Good news, isn't it?"

Jack watched him over the rim of his mug and Ianto knew his attempted diversion had been noted. "Excellent news," the older man said, clearly playing along despite them both knowing the tactic had failed. He nudged the chair beside him out with one foot and Ianto took the hint, obediently sitting down.

"Owen didn't seem to want to concede as much yet," he said.

"No, he insists we shouldn't jump the gun, but I know deep down he's gotten himself caught up in the Doctor's enthusiasm as well."

Ianto nodded sagely, though he'd seen no such zeal from the medic. "He does have a certain presence about him. The Doctor, I mean."

Jack glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and Ianto focused on the table, noticing for the first time the collection of papers scattered over the polished surface. "And then some," agreed Jack.

Finishing off his second coffee, the Captain leaned back in his chair and stared openly at Ianto. The young man shifted uneasily, mind rebelliously filling with memories from early that morning. He felt his face growing warmer, embarrassment and discomfort combining to heat the blood in his cheeks.

"How are you really doing?" Jack asked. "And you know I don't mean your injuries."

"I'm fine," Ianto said again, firmer this time and he started to rise from the chair. Jack beat him to it, leaping to his feet and grasping Ianto's arm.

"Well you're overreacting, so that's clearly a lie. You don't still feel guilty about me dying, do you?"

"Of course I do!" Ianto replied hotly, horrified by the suggestion that he could disregard causing another person's death. "Do you think I can just cast aside those feelings so easily?"

"It wasn't your fault," Jack said with a frown. "You know I don't blame you for taking what I freely gave."

Ianto sighed and looked away; he really didn't want to be having this conversation again. It brought them back into dangerous territory concerning just how much the loss of Jack would crush him. "I know," he agreed.

Jack's grip relaxed and he gave a faint smile. "But you're not going to stop feeling guilty, are you?"

Ianto's own lips twitched slightly. "Probably not, no."

"Still, I suppose I can't really complain," the Captain said, causing Ianto to glance back at him in confusion.

"What?"

"It means you care I might not come back one day," Jack went on, shrugging.

Ianto blinked. "Of course I care about that," he said in astonishment. "Did you think I wouldn't?"

There was a moment of silence as Jack stared intently into his eyes, searching for the truth in his words. "You still resist me."

A bubble of indignant laughter escaped Ianto's lips. "You're joking."

"I'm not."

Ianto shook his head, confused and a little concerned. What did one have to do with the other? Could he not worry about Jack's wellbeing without rolling over every single time Jack decided he wanted to fool around?

Of course he still resisted Jack – he surely wasn't expected to give his entire being to someone who couldn't return the sentiment – but he hadn't thought that Jack would demand more than he already had. Was it not enough that he'd allowed Jack command of his dark needs all but some of the time? "You want me to drop everything and bend over whenever you tell me to?" He gave another snort of wry amusement. "I hate to break it to you, Jack, but sometimes a man is just not in the mood."

"It isn't about you being in the mood or not. It's about you holding back." Jack continued to pin Ianto in place with his unwavering gaze. "And we've already determined that when you hold things in, sooner or later you'll crack under the pressure."

The young man frowned, not quite able to believe what Jack was saying. "That's ridiculous," he scoffed. "You make it sound like I'm constantly on the verge of a breakdown. Do you really think I'm that weak?"

"Not weak, no. Simply lacking direction, perhaps."

"And you want to provide me with a direction?" Ianto asked, voice dropping dangerously low. "By making a slave of my body?"

Jack flashed a crooked grin at him. "I take only what you willingly give me."

"Bloody hell, Jack, make up your mind!" Ianto exploded. "You just complained that I don't give in to you all the time!"

Jack sighed. "You still don't understand, do you?" He smiled fondly at his young lover, then, whilst Ianto was distracted trying to guess what his words and expression meant, he span Ianto around so the backs of his legs hit the table.

Taking hold of Ianto's wrists, Jack leaned the younger man back so he could pin his hands to the tabletop and they stood in tense silence, Ianto's spine unwillingly arched and Jack leaning over him.

"Touch me."

The command caused Ianto's eyes to widen. How had they gone from arguing to this? "Jack-"

"Do it."

Ianto pursed his lips, trying to figure out Jack's unpredictable behaviour. The older man was right about him not understanding: he'd been on the back foot since waking up in the medical bay and this mystifying conversation on top of everything else was not helping at all. "I can't touch you with my hands trapped," he pointed out cautiously, testing the waters to make sure this wasn't a trick somehow. And, of course, whether he obeyed or made a run for it, freeing his hands would be the first requirement for either course of action.

"Then use your imagination," Jack purred, refusing to loosen his grip.

Not _quite_ what Ianto had been expecting, but then he really shouldn't have been surprised that it would come to this again. He glared at Jack in defiance, but his body was growing warmer with each minute he stood entangled with the other man and he knew the fight was already over. Not only did his anger fail to rise at Jack's ill-timed seduction, but the tightness that had lingered in his chest since awakening, the fear that he might have given too much away, was easing with the familiar contact between them.

Unable to grasp any hidden purpose behind Jack's actions, and as weak as always to resist him, Ianto gave into the flood of endorphins and allowed a smile to spread across his lips. He lifted one leg slowly, sliding it up between Jack's until his knee could go no further.

Jack watched him from beneath hooded eyes, gaze fixed on Ianto's curving mouth. His tongue slid out to wet his own lips, before a quiet grunt of approval escaped through them, urged from his throat by the light pressure of Ianto's leg.

"There we go," murmured Jack, "I knew you'd find a way."

Ianto didn't reply, merely continued to rock his knee into Jack's crotch. The other man leaned in further, crowding him until the edge of the table dug painfully into his flesh. Jack's fingers were like steel around his wrists, his breath hot on Ianto's cheek.

"Can you feel me?" Jack asked, and Ianto got the distinct impression that this wasn't – surprisingly – Jack talking dirty. Sure enough, he went on to say, "I'm here. I'm alive. I'm not going anywhere."

Ianto had to close his eyes as the words reached him. He bit his tongue and turned his face away, pushing his knee harder against Jack's groin. A dark thrill of satisfaction ran through him to hear the slightly pained grunt in response and he knew there would be little, if any, further discussion on the matter.

Lips brushed just below Ianto's ear, Jack's breath growing louder as he rolled his hips, moving closer so that he fully straddled the younger man's thigh. The fingers wrapped around his wrists squeezed tighter in encouragement and Jack leaned forward until their upper bodies were entirely aligned.

Ianto was unable to hold back the quiet groan as Jack settled his weight further upon him, the display of power overwhelming, if subtle, and as always so very effective against him. He turned his head back, aiming for the other's mouth but Jack pulled away before he could make contact.

"No," he said, the word pushing air over Ianto's needy lips. "You should put that mouth to better use." He tilted his head, breath trailing along Ianto's jaw back to his ear. "See for yourself how alive I am."

The heady feel of Jack's warm body flush with his own, so different to the corpse that had lain in the bunker for twelve hours straight, and the impossible promise Ianto couldn't erase from his mind sent a tremble through the young man's throat. _I'm not going anywhere._ The words echoed in his head, over and over, and he whimpered, desperate to do as Jack commanded. At the sound, the fingers on his wrists withdrew and he fell eagerly to his knees.

His hands moved without a second thought, pushing apart Jack's clothing to free his ready cock. With his fingers curling over the hot flesh, Ianto glanced up, meeting Jack's eyes as he arched above him, hands flat on the table for support. The Captain grinned, a hungry expression colouring his features that was both familiar and entirely new.

The look surprised Ianto, disrupting the firm stroke of his hands across Jack's exposed skin, but it disappeared almost immediately, replaced by one of pleasure, and Ianto returned his attention to Jack's obvious need.

With parted lips, Ianto kissed hungrily along the underside of the other's cock, following the thick vein to Jack's testicles and pushing his shorts further down to take one delicate ball into his mouth. He sucked hard, massaging the flesh with his tongue before moving onto the other, all the while worming his fingers further into Jack's trousers.

The older man drew in a loud breath and moved infinitesimally closer, legs widening to improve his balance and opening himself fully to his lover's attentions. Ianto licked his way back up to the head of Jack's erection, swirling his tongue around it once before slipping his lips over the slick skin and holding them there, teasing through his inaction.

Jack gave a moan of approval, pushing against Ianto's hands which held his hips in place as he tried to thrust forward. Ianto squeezed his fingers tighter, trying to warn the other not to move, but he was in the position of weakness and had no control over Jack's motions. Indeed, a hand appeared on his face just then, sliding possessively down his cheek to grip his jaw as the Captain slid his cock unerringly into Ianto's mouth.

Ianto fought to keep from gagging and experience soon halted the contractions of his throat. He breathed loudly through his nose, his own body heating quickly at Jack's dominating behaviour, and he dropped one hand to rub surreptitiously at the bulge in his trousers.

Jack's fingertips dug into Ianto's face, holding him still as he slowly thrust in and out of his mouth. Ianto tried ineffectively to restrain the other's hips again, well aware that he had no power on his knees before the immortal man, but more than willing to play the game. It was moments like this that sent a shiver along Ianto's spine, a full body reaction brought about by the display of possession as Jack used him for his pleasure.

The fact that he had such an effect on the Captain, that Jack would _want_ to use him like this, burned through Ianto like wildfire. He knew Jack had never had such a fierce physical relationship with anyone before, could tell it in the way Jack's behaviour had progressed recently; there was no chance that he had previous experience of commanding another in this way when he was clearly learning for the first time all that could be done within the bounds of such an understanding.

Ianto pushed the heel of his hand firmer into his crotch, rubbing in tight circles, stimulating himself without any chance of it being enough to make him come. He moaned around Jack's cock, causing the older man to buck forward sharply in response.

"Ianto," Jack hissed. "Undo your trousers."

Excitement swept over the kneeling man and he eagerly complied, trying to guess what Jack's next command would be. He folded back the edges of his trousers, revealing the tented cotton of his shorts. There was a damp spot above his leaking erection and Ianto made no attempt to avoid brushing his hand over it, setting his own blood boiling at the contact.

"Good," Jack continued and Ianto looked up to find the Captain staring down, watching him intently. He still gripped the edge of the table with one hand, but the other now combed into Ianto's hair, taking a firm grasp of his head as he continued to work his cock in and out of the young man's throat. "Keep touching yourself, but don't come yet."

Ianto gave another moan, shivering with delight as he began to pleasure himself without any need for stealth. He kept his eyes on Jack's, but his lover didn't meet his gaze: head tilted to the side, his attention was instead flickering between Ianto's mouth and hand.

The air in Ianto's lungs seemed to grow thin, but he couldn't pull his head away, didn't want to even if Jack would have allowed it. His vision blurred just slightly around the edges and the thrill of his singing nerves continued to climb ever upwards. He dropped his other hand from Jack's hip to take his own balls in an almost punishing grip, rolling and pulling and quite sure he would come before Jack had even finished saying it was allowed.

Jack's own breath rasped through his teeth, his lips pulled back into a grin that was far more feral than usual, and his rhythm began to falter as he neared his peak. The fingers in Ianto's hair curled tighter and a loud unrestrained gasp accompanied the flood of liquid down Ianto's throat.

Ianto hurried to lick all trace of semen from Jack's cock, relishing the taste even as he continued to torment himself and hoping that such good behaviour would be swiftly rewarded. As soon as he was clean, Jack stepped back, removing all contact with the man on the floor and Ianto's eyes snapped up to stare curiously at the Captain.

Jack simply leered as he straightened his clothes, eyes roving over Ianto's frozen body. "Don't stop," he ordered quietly, taking another step away until he could lean against the wall.

Ianto's fingers automatically resumed their motions, even before his brain caught up with the fact that he now knelt in the middle of the room, pumping his cock and kneading his balls whilst Jack watched on. The idea made him shudder, his imagination providing a picture of what they would look like if someone were to walk through the doorway right then. His hands tightened at the erotic scene in his head, a scene amplified by the reality of his part in it, and he forced himself not to close his eyes, far more eager to watch Jack than imagine it.

Completion was getting closer, Ianto could feel it wrapping ever-tightening strands around his excited body, and he feared he would be unable to obey Jack's instructions. He squeezed the base of his cock, staving off his orgasm, only for Jack to growl in response.

"Now, now," the Captain said in a low voice, "no cheating."

A whimper escaped Ianto's lips before he could stop it and he resumed his stroking, breath hitching with each motion. "Jack..." he murmured.

"Are you going to ask for permission?" Jack interrupted. "Beg me to let you come?" He took a step forward, eyes boring deep into Ianto's. "Because you know what that means."

Ianto glared back up at him, teeth clenched with frustration. Having to ask meant that next time they were in a similar situation, Jack would make it twice as bad, more torturous than it was in this moment, but even as he thought that, Ianto realised he wasn't going to last much longer at all. "Please," he panted, ignoring the wide grin that appeared on Jack's face. "Please, Jack."

"What do you want?"

"I want to come," Ianto told him. "Please let me come, Jack."

The Captain moved even closer, gaze sweeping from Ianto's flushed face to his shaking hands. The seconds before Jack spoke were almost painfully slow and Ianto feared he wouldn't be able to stop the inevitable if Jack continued to loom over him with such an intense look upon his face. "Please," he said again, positive that coming without permission would be even worse than having to ask for it.

Jack gave a warm chuckle and dropped to his knees before Ianto, taking the younger man's face in his hands and leaning in. "Come for me," he whispered, before crushing his lips to Ianto's, swallowing the loud cry that marked his explosive orgasm.

Ianto was shaking, his fingers still moving over his cock as his seed continued to burst from him, the release drawn out just as the build-up had been. He opened his mouth instinctively to receive Jack's fervent kisses, sharing the taste of the other man that still lingered on his tongue.

When they parted at last, each gasping for breath, Jack pulled back just enough to study the face he held in his hands. Ianto met his darkened eyes, face slack with overwhelming pleasure, and Jack grinned back at him, the same ravenous look consuming his features that Ianto had noticed before when the Captain had been leaning over him.

It was a look that suggested his lover knew something Ianto didn't: something that excited Jack a _lot_.


	8. Chapter 7

A/N: Just a little chapter...next one to follow soon! (Also thanks to M'riah for the review!)

* * *

Jack leaned back in his chair until it creaked, interlacing his fingers behind his head and swinging his boots up onto the desk. He stared blindly at a corner of the ceiling, a faint smile upon his lips and his mind drifting freely.

Things were looking up for the first time in a long while and Jack was more than happy to revel in the feeling of his tense nerves easing. Admittedly he was still thrumming with pleasure from his encounter with Ianto, but there really did seem cause to allow himself to relax, even if only for a few minutes. The Doctor would cure Gwen – he had to, he wouldn't have come if he'd doubted his ability to help – and now that Ianto's troubles were firmly in hand, everything was well on its way to normality again. Relatively speaking, of course.

Jack's smile widened, recalling the incident in the boardroom. He and Ianto had reached a good balance in their new relationship, an arrangement that gave them both pleasure and satisfaction. After all the trouble that had proceeded Ianto's eventual capitulation: his deception and denial, Jack's mystification at being resisted so firmly, the need to confine Ianto to the Hub...it had all been forgotten in light of the understanding now between them.

In fact, it was rather surprising to Jack, when he stopped to consider the facts, just how well it was all working out. Although he had initially indulged Ianto's needs in order to help the younger man, he could not deny he was also enjoying this unusual kind of relationship. He hadn't experienced anything like it before, even though he'd known many people with problems and certain _interests_, his interactions with them had never been so fulfilling.

Granted, the kinks of some of his past lovers had been fun to explore – very fun, if Jack was honest about it – and the satisfaction he'd gained from helping people in trouble had been more than just a little pleasing, but this was the first time he'd ended up feeling so incredible close to the other person involved. Perhaps it was the combination of the two that had led to this development, the act of helping Ianto _through_ the fascinating medium of sexual domination.

Well, partially, at least. There were other factors involved, not just the physical, but the important thing was that the barriers around Ianto were slowly wearing away and it was entirely possible that soon the young man would trust Jack more than ever. The idea appealed to the immortal a great deal; too much, perhaps, and yet he couldn't repress that optimism. Especially after he'd pulled the Doctor aside earlier that day and finally got an answer concerning the obscure comments he'd made about Ianto...

"Jack?"

"Uhn," the Captain grunted as a voice crackled to life in his ear. "Yes, Tosh?" he replied, dropping his feet to the floor and reluctantly pushing aside the rather pleasant thoughts.

"Can you come down to the lab, please? There's something you need to see."

* * *

"So, what have you got?" asked Jack as he strode into the lab, looking expectantly between the two people already there.

Rather than replying, Tosh glanced at the Doctor, but it was entirely fruitless. The Time Lord was gazing raptly at something in a test tube, completely unaware of her apparent need for help. Alarm bells began to jingle in the back of Jack's mind and he scanned the room for a clue to what was going on. In the cluttered lab there were many possibilities, however Toshiko's proximity to a screen covered with a mass of alien symbols suggested that was the reason for her call.

"We're just waiting for Ianto," Tosh told him, sounding almost nervous as she abandoned her silent entreaty to the Doctor.

One eyebrow arched with exaggerated curiosity, Jack looked from Tosh to the Doctor and back to the monitor again. He didn't know the language, though there was something familiar about the writing, as though he'd seen it in passing but never up close. "What about Owen?" he asked, glancing around the room as though he might have missed the medic's presence.

"He's working on something that can't be left unattended," Tosh answered. The moment she stopped talking she began to bite at her lip and Jack's other eyebrow rose into line with the first.

"Tosh..." he began, in his best 'Captain' voice, but he didn't need to go on, as Ianto chose that moment to appear on the threshold to the lab. He took in the scene with quick eyes that _may_ have lingered slightly longer on Jack than the others, before stepping in and lifting his eyebrows in an unwitting imitation of his lover.

"You rang?" he asked Tosh and received a faint smile in return, which was more than Jack had warranted apparently. He pouted before remembering the mystery of why he and Ianto had been called there.

"Doctor?" Tosh was saying, unease making her voice quiet, and yet it was apparently enough to get his attention. The Time Lord peered over the top of his test tube and gave her a questioning look, to which she merely turned to the other two men in the room.

The Doctor finally noticed their presence and swung around to face them. "Ah, Captain!" he declared with great enthusiasm. "We've found the source of your mysterious disease!"

Well accustomed to skipping a few stages in a conversation with the Doctor, Jack quickly grasped his meaning. It wasn't, however, anything they didn't already know and Ianto beat him to pointing that out. "It was inside the pod we were unfortunate enough to acquire recently," the young man said. "We'd already worked that out."

"Ah, but did you know it was a message pod?"

"It was amongst our theories. Did you know it was shaped like a peanut M&M?"

Jack bit back a laugh, not at all surprised that Ianto had risen to the challenge of the Doctor's unique manner of interacting with others. He'd wondered in the past what fun could be had by getting the two men in the same room, but his imagination had often swung rapidly away from humorous conversations and into downright pornography.

The Doctor scratched his ear and blinked at the Welshman. "That so?" he murmured, before scrunching up his face and looking away.

Though he was aware now of the reason behind the Doctor's expression, Jack was still troubled by the insecurity it caused Ianto, as made evident by the distinct lack of a dry and witty response. "The disease was in a message pod," Jack promoted, before the tension could grow any worse. "Was it put in there intentionally?"

"That seems to be the case," Tosh said, shifting uncomfortably beside her monitor. "If we've translated the message correctly."

"It's a little cowardly," Ianto noted. "I mean, a virus disguised as a message is rather underhanded." He folded his arms across his chest and frowned at the impropriety of the idea. "I guess the intended recipient should consider themselves fortunate that it fell through the Rift and into the mud here, instead of reaching its destination."

"Uh," said Tosh, expression growing even more distressed. "Actually it was meant to come here."

Jack scowled at that. "Here, Earth?" She nodded slowly and Jack arched an eyebrow in suspicion. "That seems..."

"Sloppy," Ianto supplied.

"Ominous," Jack countered, turning to his lover. "Why sloppy?"

"Well the Rift isn't the best of delivery methods, is it?" the young man explained. "Not to mention the pod was opened by a sonic level that could only be created by a computer, something that wasn't exactly _prevalent_ a hundred years ago. It clearly missed whatever date the sender had intended for it to arrive."

Jack shrugged. He couldn't argue with Ianto's reasoning, though it seemed he'd passed over the more pressing issues in order to critique the delivery method. Despite the alarming turn of events, Jack couldn't help but smile crookedly at Ianto's continually unpredictable thoughts.

"Your mind is too linear," the Doctor announced. He was looking at Ianto, just about, but he soon focused instead on Jack. "Don't you think?"

Jack dragged his attention away from Ianto to return the Doctor's gaze, finding faint disappointment in his eyes. In an instant all of Jack's knowledge of time slammed back into his mind and he grinned wryly, acknowledging the power Ianto had to distract him so. "No," he said, not to the Doctor but to Ianto. "It didn't miss the date. It just arrived early."

Ianto pondered this for a few seconds before conceding the logic with a nod. "Okay, but it was still buried in Cardiff and unearthed inadvertently by those builders. The delivery, wherever _or_ whenever, was still compromised."

"No, it wasn't," the Doctor assured him. "It's where it's supposed to be."

"Here in Cardiff?" Ianto asked.

"Yep."

"Here and _now_ in Cardiff?"

"Yep!"

Ianto lifted an apprehensive eyebrow. "Do I want to ask the next question?"

No one answered that and Jack groaned. "It was sent to us, wasn't it?" he said, rubbing a hand wearily across his face. He was surprised how...well, _surprised_ he was, considering the countless mishaps and calamities he'd witnessed befall Torchwood and its operatives over the years.

"Not quite," replied the Doctor and Jack glanced sharply across at him. The Time Lord gave a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "It was sent to _you_, Jack."


	9. Chapter 8

"It was sent to _you_, Jack."

A few moments passed while Jack processed that news and decided which of his reactions he would let win out. "To me?" he grinned, opting to go with good old-fashioned inappropriate humour. "Well that's new. I haven't been sent a love note through the Rift before!"

Ianto rolled his eyes and moved to perch on a stool beside the lab's central table. "Who was it from?"

"There was no signature on the message," Tosh explained, following Ianto's lead and taking a seat. She seemed less anxious now that the truth was out, though her fingers moved unceasingly on the worktop. "Nor any real clue in the pod itself. At least not that we could recognise."

"Okay. Was it sent to Jack by name?" Ianto continued. "Or to the leader of Torchwood Three?"

_Good question_, Jack thought. After all, there were only certain people who had both access to such technology and also knew the name he was currently using.

"Captain Jack Harkness!" the Doctor said with a flourish, as though he were an MC announcing the next guest at a high society ball.

"You're enjoying this a bit too much," Jack growled.

The Time Lord merely grinned at him, unrepentant. "It's a _mystery_," he said. "Weren't you excited trying to open the pod?"

Jack opened his mouth to protest, then recalled the day the team had been huddled in that same lab, watching Tosh as she worked her magic on the alien object. Ianto's shoulders lifted a fraction, barely a movement at all, but Jack knew it indicated laughter at his expense. "Not even a little," he declared, though everyone in the room knew he was bluffing.

"_Any_way," Ianto said, belatedly stepping in to help Jack save face, "what did the message say?"

"To be honest it doesn't translate very well," admitted the Doctor. "Most of it is rather vulgar imagery which I doubt could be applied to human physiology, but it _does_ seem to state that enclosed in the pod is something intended as payback for the 'crimes' of Captain Jack Harkness against the Parons."

Jack thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Never heard of them. You?"

The Time Lord scratched his head. "I don't think so, although my translation could be shaky." He seemed to miss Jack's astonished look at that confession. "The word is similar to another meaning in this language, but I took it to be a name because of the context."

"And that meaning is?"

"Those who have lost."

"So what, they think I stole something from them?" Jack sighed. His endless life had barely started, in comparison to what was to come, and yet it was already riddled with people he'd wronged and mistakes he'd made. Melancholy threatened to sweep across him, but he sensed the weight of Ianto's gaze and turned to meet it. "What?"

The younger man hesitated, his eyes pensive. "The Parons."

"You recognise the name?"

"No."

"But...?"

"I was just thinking about the last time you were accused of something you don't remember doing."

The Captain's expression darkened. "What language is the message in?" he asked the Doctor.

"It's colloquial Gyzoneen. Roughly 47th Century dialect, from the Verl cluster."

Jack closed his eyes, dreading the answer to his next question. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but Cravah is in that system, yes?"

"It is," the Doctor replied, tilting his head as he noticed Jack's growing recognition. "But as far as I'm aware the natives of Cravah have never been called the Parons."

"No. The natives are the Perscalla-Fam." The Captain sighed again, before looking to Ianto. "You're right."

Ianto seemed to be trying to frown and grimace at the same time. "I'd rather hoped I wasn't."

"So the Parons...?" Tosh asked softly, easily picking up on the direction of their thoughts.

"Lurrelia must have called her people that," Jack told her. "She was under the impression they'd suffered for the changes they went through, that they'd lost something during their development."

"Fuck," said Ianto. "But it can't have been her, I..." He trailed off. "Perhaps it was another one of her people, seeking revenge as well."

"You saw what the rest of them were like, they were little more than animals. She was the only one with heightened awareness and definitely the only one able to jump between minds and take control of other people. Even if she told them I was the cause of their devolution, they wouldn't have understood."

"You don't know that you were responsible, Jack," Ianto reminded him, but the Captain waved the reassurance away.

"Let's not go through that again. It doesn't matter anyway, she decided I was to blame and that was enough for her."

"Ahem," the Doctor said, clearing his throat. "I take it you know the sender then?"

Jack gave him a grim smile. "That depends." From the corner of his eye, he could see Ianto shaking his head to himself. He couldn't imagine the thoughts going through the young man's mind at that moment in time, but he knew they weren't of the warm and fuzzy variety. He also knew that he couldn't do anything to help dispel them just yet, not when the Doctor was waiting to hear the story that could explain the mystery of the virus-carrying message pod.

"You remember the incident I mentioned yesterday? The psychic alien who'd used Ianto as a conduit? Well she was a Fam. She blamed me for the fact that her people had devolved from humanoid to bestial." Jack clenched his jaw, unable to believe the current situation could have anything to do with that one. "She tried to punish me by letting her kin invade Earth and wreak havoc."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "What lovely company you keep, Captain," he said, causing Jack to glare at him. "But seriously, she couldn't think you had anything to do with that change. The evolutionary advancement of the Perscalla-Fam is one of the most complex and fascinating instances in the history of life in the Universe."

"She didn't think so," Jack said with a shrug. "She was disgusted when she found out that her ancestors were once humanoid but had since become little more than dumb animals."

"Dumb?" the Doctor spluttered. "Their psychic abilities are amongst the most powerful ever to emerge!"

Ianto glanced at Jack briefly in confusion. "The creatures she brought here through the Rift were physically strong, but they showed few signs of intelligence, let alone psychic ability."

Jack nodded. "Yeah, they didn't seem to have any kind of independent cognition."

"Well I'd wager those were _early_ 47th Century Fam then," the Doctor declared, "because at that time the race was shifting its focus from the physical to the mental plane of existence. If this Lurrelia was born during the early years of that development, with the abilities you described, she was probably one of the first to possess the innate mental prowess that later defined the species."

"She believed she was an anomaly amongst her kind," Ianto said. "The only one she knew of with psychic aptitude."

"There you go then." The Doctor looked around the lab, as though seeking the next puzzle now that he had solved this one. "It all makes perfect sense. The first stages of evolution are always tricky and clearly your friend didn't handle it as well as those that followed her."

Jack folded his arms across his chest. "Well as reassuring as it is to know that she was merely ahead of her time, as opposed to being the sole intelligent individual of a race I doomed to the life of an animal, I think we're missing the point."

"Which is?"

"That she's dead."

"Huh...are you sure? Death doesn't seem to mean much when you're around, after all."

Jack looked at Ianto, whose expression had closed up. "We're pretty damn sure, yes. When Ianto was dragged through the Rift with her, he was forced to kill her."

The Doctor followed Jack's gaze, studying the young man with open sympathy. "Is it possible she was conspiring with someone else, perhaps not of her kind, who could have taken over her quest for revenge?"

"We know she was working with an old acquaintance of mine, but this is not his style."

"John Hart has style?" Ianto quipped dryly.

Jack laughed. "Of a sort. He definitely wouldn't send a virus like this. For one thing he knows it wouldn't kill me, and if he was looking to make me suffer by harming those around me, he'd want to be here to do it personally."

The Doctor nodded in what appeared to be approval of that particular sentiment, which was ever-so-slightly alarming, all things considered. "Then assuming she sent it, she must have done so when she was still alive."

"_Before_ coming here herself?" Ianto asked.

"Perhaps the virus was her first idea, but when it got lost she decided to use a more direct approach." The Doctor shrugged. "Of course I'm guessing when she came here to kill you in person, she discovered that little quirk of yours and realised the folly of her original plan."

"Actually she found out about that before coming here, thanks to John, but she still tried to destroy me by attacking everyone else instead."

"Ah, I see. I stand by my assessment of your taste in friends, Jack."

The Captain pulled a face. "Thanks."

"It's quite funny really, isn't it? Even though it got lost in the post, the virus did the same thing in the end anyway: hurting the people you care about."

"Oh yeah, hilarious. We stop her from invading Earth and she still gets in a deadly kick from beyond the grave."

"Such is the price of being a Time Agent," the Doctor gaily pointed out.

Jack's head whipped around. "Why do you say that?" he asked, wary at the sudden mention of his past.

"Because clearly you visited Cravah during your time with the Agency," the Doctor said with a shrug. "How else could Lurrelia have decided _you_ were the cause of the Fam's development?"

"True," Jack said. "Not that I _was_ of course," he added. "I mean, I was on Cravah for a few days back when they were humanoid, but I didn't stay long enough to affect anything. Especially not long enough to set hundreds of years worth of evolution into motion."

He noticed Ianto stiffening beside him and suddenly a veil lifted from across his mind; a veil he hadn't realised had once again settled over his recollection of that time. "Right," he said, shaking his head to better clear his thoughts. "Of course after that short and innocent mission supposedly ended, so do my memories."

Understanding spread across the Doctor's features. "Your missing time."

"Exactly. According to Lurrelia, she was able to access the memories of her humanoid ancestors, where she claimed seeing that I spent a standard year there. She also said I worked my way into their system of government and introduced the vaccination that was ultimately responsible for the change in their genetic make-up."

"Well that can't be right," the Doctor argued. "The development was entirely natural. There's no mention of a vaccine or any other chemical agent in the reports."

"Things have been lost to history in the past," Ianto said. "No pun intended."

Jack glared at him. "You're supposed to be on my side."

"I am, I'm just pointing out a universal truth. Details are always left out of official records, no matter how hard you try to include everything."

"But a vaccine given to all the children? That's a huge gaping hole if it got lost in the ether."

"The Agency took away your memories," Ianto said, "and I'm willing to bet they did a lot worse. Perhaps they had it in their power to control the flow of information about such things as well." He shrugged. "But I suppose you'd have a better idea of that than me."

Jack's eyes narrowed as he thought back to his time at the Agency. Ianto was right, they certainly had a lot of influence, and although they were bound by rules set in place by higher authorities, Jack knew for a fact that they sometimes bent those rules if the situation called for it. Or rather, if _they_ thought the situation called for it.

He looked to the Doctor, who had his own knowledge of the Time Agency, and the other man spread his hands helplessly. "I'm not going to say it's impossible."

"Hmm," Jack replied. "Well, regardless of whether it happened or not, Lurrelia held me responsible and wanted revenge on me for cursing her people."

The Doctor pulled a face. "Their development was viewed as a great genetic leap in evolution, not a curse. The Fam's psychic abilities grew so vast they attracted attention from practically all the scientific and extrasensory communities of the time."

"Lurrelia thought her own people were nothing more than animals," Ianto quietly explained. "She hated that they had, in her eyes, been forced to become so different to their glorious ancestors."

"If she'd known that the rest of her kind would become just as powerful and capable as herself..." the Doctor began, with a rueful shake of his head.

"...then she might not have sought revenge on Jack," Ianto finished, turning to look up at his lover.

The Captain sighed loudly. "Everyone is so hasty to kill me, especially when I've done nothing wrong."

"Lucky you can't die then," Ianto offered. "You can continue insulting people and never have to worry about the consequences."

Jack grinned, relieved that, in spite of their current discussion, Ianto was joking with him. He couldn't help but be concerned whenever mention of the incident with Lurrelia arose, well aware that Ianto still wasn't entirely comfortable with his memories of that time.

"So..." Tosh began hesitantly, drawing Jack's attention away from Ianto again. "Lurrelia sent the pod with the virus in it through the Rift, but it didn't arrive at the right time, so she came here herself to get revenge on Jack." Her lips pressed into a thin unhappy line. "It doesn't seem fair that after we stopped her once, she was still able to cause more trouble."

"No, it isn't fair, Tosh," Jack assured her. "But she's not going to win this time either. We've got all we need to help Gwen now, so eventually we'll-"

"Not eventually," the Doctor interrupted. "Dr. Harper is preparing the first treatment right now."

Jack and Ianto exchanged a glance, the abrupt declaration surprising them into brief silence. "Already?" Jack finally asked.

"What happened to having to design and manufacture the anti-virus?" Ianto added, turning to Tosh. "You made it sound like it would take far longer than..." he glanced at his watch, "...three hours."

Tosh shrugged, mouth twitching with modest humour whilst the Doctor grinned openly at them. "Haven't you ever heard the saying 'time is relative', Mr. Jones?"

Ianto's eye twitched. "Three hours," he said again, looking at Jack for support.

"Don't ask me," the immortal said with a shrug. "He has a knack for solving problems far quicker than should be possible."

"Weeell, you've either got it or you don't!" the Doctor declared, his grin growing even wider. "Shall we see how Dr. Harper's doing then?" he said eagerly, pushing off from the counter against which he'd been lounging and heading for the door.

"Wait a minute," Ianto said, standing and lifting a hand to stop the Time Lord. "I need to ask you something."

The Doctor span around, face open with curiosity. "Oh?"

"Ianto, it's probably not the..." Jack began, only to have the younger man turn on him.

"I knew it!" Ianto cut him off sharply. "I knew he'd already told you! Shouldn't I have been included in that conversation?"

"I really don't think-"

"Well I really do," Ianto growled over the top of his protest. "There's something else going on here, on top of every bloody other thing, and I know it has something to do with what happened to me. It might not be the right time, but I need to know the truth."

Jack couldn't help but beam at Ianto, who had risen to his feet with a look of fierce determination on his face. "Okay," he said with a shrug, quite happy to yield when confronted with Ianto's rather enchanting glare. "I was going to have him tell you later, but if you want to know now..." With that he looked to the Doctor, handing off the job of breaking the news with some amusement.

Ianto turned, following his gaze and narrowing his eyes at the Time Lord. "So?"

The Doctor rocked back on his heels. "So?" he echoed, causing Ianto to give a heavy sigh. Jack felt for him, but he'd already decided that this wasn't something he could tell the younger man himself: it was far more prudent that the Doctor explain what had happened, if only so Ianto wouldn't think it was Jack simply exaggerating.

"The reason you won't look me in the eye," Ianto began. "I thought I'd offended you, but-"

"You haven't done anything," the Doctor said quickly, looking directly at Ianto to prove his words. The muscles around his eyes, however, tightened as though he was resisting the urge to squint. "It just hurts, that's all."

"Hurts?" Ianto repeated thoughtfully, glancing to Jack.

"He used to say it hurt to look at me too," Jack reassured him with a casual shrug, though inwardly his feelings were rather more strained. He had never confessed to it before, but he'd always been a little troubled by the Doctor's claim that his very presence was painful to see. Of course bravado and more than one lifetime's worth of experience had allowed him to accept that and move on, but Ianto didn't have that luxury and so Jack found himself hoping to save the younger man from that feeling of displacement.

The Doctor nodded, oblivious to the underlying pain in the immortal's words. "It still does, actually. But I'm used to it now and in time I'll get used to looking at him as well."

Still seated at the workbench, Tosh's eyes were round with alarm as she listened to their conversation. Jack wondered if she'd guessed what had yet to be said aloud, or if she was merely still suffering the effects of all the caffeine she'd apparently consumed in the night.

Ianto was also looking at Tosh, possibly trying to read from her expression if she knew any more than he did, before his bright gaze slid across to the Captain's. "Jack...?" he began and although he tried to conceal the concern in his voice, Jack could hear it as plain as day.

He gave an encouraging smile and nodded for the other man to ask his question.

"What do you mean?" Ianto eventually said, almost reluctantly facing the Doctor once again. "What's wrong with me?"

"There's nothing wrong with you!" Jack interrupted fiercely. He hadn't expected Ianto to phrase it that way; hadn't considered that the young man would take all the mystery to mean he'd been _damaged_ in some way. "You're just..." He paused, realising he couldn't think of the right word for what had happened. He looked to the Doctor for help and much to his relief the alien took over without any more encouragement.

"You're..." The Time Lord crinkled his nose and looked away, like he didn't approve of the words he was about to say. "You've stopped."

"Stopped?" said Ianto.

"Yeah. You," the Doctor waved a hand evasively in his direction, "stopped."

"_Stopped_."

"Okay, enough," injected Jack, before they got stuck going in circles and Ianto grew any more worried. "Just tell him."

The Doctor sighed. "Your presence in time has become partially fixed."

"Fixed," Jack murmured quietly to himself. He could barely contain his grin as he watched Ianto, waiting for the penny to drop.

"_Partially_," the Doctor said again, with a faint scowl at the immortal.

Ianto blinked, looking between the two men. "And what does that mean, exactly?"

The Doctor met his eyes once again, establishing the importance of his answer. "It means, Mr. Jones, that you've stopped aging."


	10. Chapter 9

"He's stopped aging?"

Owen looked around the room, meeting everyone else's eyes, before returning to Ianto. "You've stopped _aging_?" he repeated, as though saying the words a second time would cause them to make more sense.

"Apparently," Ianto replied.

"That's ridiculous."

The younger man spread his hands helplessly. "I find it hard to disagree."

Owen scowled, not at all comforted by that admission. "How?" he demanded. "You can't tell me it was thanks to the big glowing alien," he added sardonically.

"Actually it was the alien metal already in his system _mixing_ with the Artron radiation that went into his chest," Jack explained, sounding strangely buoyant.

"And most possibly Jack's habit of sticking his tongue down dying people's throats as well," the Doctor added.

Owen's entire face gave a twitch of incredulity. "And all that somehow stopped him aging."

"Yes, Owen," Jack said. "It stopped him aging, he's not getting older, now can we get on with the part where you take all your samples and tell us if it's true or not."

The Captain's tone had jumped from amusement to one of tension and Owen grasped at the lone strand of sanity. "So you don't believe it?" he asked.

Jack gave a sigh. "No, I do, but I think it's best if you confirmed it for everyone else." He glanced at the Doctor. "No offence."

"Oh, hey, none taken. I don't blame you for wanting second, third and fourth opinions. It's not like you deal with this kind of thing every day or anything."

"Yeah, well..."

"And of course I don't know what I'm talking about either, so sure, go ahead and do your tests. Whatever makes you happy." The Time Lord beamed, apparently enjoying his own sarcasm.

Jack rolled his eyes. "He encounters one accidental immortal and he thinks he's an authority on the matter."

Owen's eyebrows crept even lower. "Immortal," he echoed darkly. "So you're saying, what? He's like you now?"

"No," Jack said, before doubt appeared in his eyes and he looked at the Doctor again. "He's not, is he?"

"Well that's a bit of a tricky one to test without actually killing him," the Time Lord admitted. "But no, his presence doesn't feel the same as yours, so I would say he can still die."

"He's just not aging," Owen said with finality.

"Okay, _why_ are you having a problem with that?" Jack demanded, rounding on the medic, who glared back at him.

"Because it isn't possible! The cells of the body don't just stop reproducing themselves without causing permanent failure of all internal and external systems. People can't stop aging. Even _you_ age, albeit at a much slower rate."

Jack gave him a curious look. "What about you?"

"I'm dead, Jack. Slight difference."

"Point. So maybe Ianto is aging slowly as well."

"You know," the man in question calmly interrupted, "all this speculation is fascinating." Everyone turned to him expectantly. "But perhaps we could skip to the endless testing and find out for ourselves what's happening?"

"Bravo," the Doctor said cheerfully, actually applauding Ianto's words. "What a good idea! Especially as I believe we still have another matter awaiting our attention and I _am_ a busy man."

Jack raised an eyebrow at that. "Eager to get away?"

"I wouldn't say eager, but the longer I'm gone, the more of an ear-bashing I'm likely to get from Donna." He gave a smile that suggested no real fear of such an event.

"Oh, I so want to meet her now," Jack told him. "You should go pick her up, then she and I can swap stories." He paused a beat before adding, "About _you_."

"Tempting," the Doctor responded dryly, "but no."

"Come on, I need to catch up with the gossip! Oh, and point her in the direction of that room on the TARDIS. You know, the one with the-"

"You mean the one you personally furnished?" interrupted the Time Lord. He rolled his eyes. "Honestly, I don't think Donna's interests are in any way compatible to that room."

"Shame," Jack said. Then his expression turned sly. "Unless you're just saying that to have the room all to yourself..." The Doctor gave an exasperated sigh and Jack laughed with feeling. He turned to Owen who, like the others, had been unashamedly listening to their conversation. "Shouldn't you be shining a light in Ianto's ear or something?"

Owen threw up his arms in an unnecessary display of irritation. "Up to me again, is it? First Gwen, now the Teaboy and no one else is able to do anything to help? Bloody hell, I don't get paid nearly enough for this."

* * *

They relocated to the medical bay, where Owen bustled around the room, collecting needles, vials and various other pieces of equipment whilst Ianto lingered beside the metal bed, refusing to sit on it like he was waiting at the GP's for a check-up.

Jack stood opposite him, grinning broadly at the younger man. He could feel something stirring in his stomach, something he wanted to liken to butterflies, had he not thought himself long grown out of that kind of nervous excitement.

And yet he was excited.

After weeks of worrying about having to keep Gwen forever in cryo, the cure to her illness was suddenly within their sights and Jack was naturally relieved by the new development. But to then learn the news about Ianto – the strange, impossible news that he'd become ageless somehow – on top of that was simply incredible.

Jack was trying not to allow himself to fully consider the situation, but he simply couldn't escape the thrilling thought that someone else had become a fixed point in time like him and it was _Ianto._ Even if he couldn't cheat death like Jack, the fact that he wouldn't age his way out of life meant a whole slew of possibilities that the Captain was struggling not to indulge until they had the results of Owen's tests.

Ianto returned his gaze with a rather more stoic expression, apparently taking the entire thing in his stride as usual. Jack wasn't completely convinced of that fact, as he'd grown rather adept at reading what lay behind those blue eyes, but he knew Ianto wouldn't wish to let the others know what was going through his mind either way. Despite the recent conclusion that holding back his emotions wasn't the healthiest of choices, Ianto wasn't about to let the others know he was at all troubled by the fact that an alien had done something extraordinarily odd to his body.

Of course he might well be having no problem at all accepting the issue, but if he was inwardly screaming in terror, however, Jack hoped he'd be able to get him talking later on, when there were fewer witnesses to his true reactions.

And if instead of screaming he was plotting what they could do together as non-aging and devastatingly handsome men...all the better!

Owen finished filling his tray with vicious-looking items and descended on Ianto with a large hypodermic needle in his hand.

"Just a thought," Ianto said lightly, as he finally sat down and rolled up the sleeve of his shirt, "but didn't you take quite a bit of blood from me after the attack?"

"What about it?" Owen asked. He tightened a tourniquet around the other man's bicep and began seeking a vein in the crook of his arm.

"Well, how about you just use that instead of taking more?"

Owen's fingers froze and he gave him an almost feral grin. "But that wouldn't be nearly as much fun as watching you squirm at the sight of a needle."

Ianto rolled his eyes. "I don't squirm," he protested.

"Actually you do," Jack told him, unable to resist. Ianto glared at him, then looked to Tosh, who nodded, a faint smile ghosting her lips.

"I don't squirm," Ianto repeated, returning his glare to Jack.

"You're squirming right now!"

Owen slid the needle into his arm and Ianto clenched his jaw unhappily. "I'll make you bloody squirm," the young man muttered, half under his breath, and Jack's grin widened at the vain threat.

He leaned closer to murmur in his lover's ear. "Promises, promises."

* * *

Ianto didn't want to talk about it. He didn't much want to think about it either, though that couldn't really be avoided so easily. As far as he was concerned there was no reason to debate the matter until Owen's tests had finished running, and even then he wasn't entirely sure what could be said.

If the Doctor was right about what had happened, it still didn't make any difference in the grand scheme of things. Of course, if he'd claimed Ianto had been changed like Jack by the Vortex, then it was entirely likely he'd be fretting over the future right now, but the fact was that, even if he _had_ somehow stopped aging, it couldn't have much of an impact on his life.

Fortunately for Ianto, it seemed Owen shared his opinion, and their trek down to cold storage had been blissfully silent. Of course that was the benefit of working with not only a reticent man, but also a man of science, who wouldn't just jump to outlandish conclusions before he had all the facts. Ianto smiled wryly to himself, conscious of the irony that he welcomed the company of his grumpy colleague over anyone else in the team for once.

"We're a morbid bunch, aren't we?" Owen announced abruptly and Ianto found himself actually surprised by the non sequitur. He floundered for a moment over his reply, his mind having apparently been wandering so far as to pass beyond his usual store of wit.

"Care to elaborate, or was that just a random observation?" he asked, eventually deciding to simply let Owen have the victory.

The doctor grinned. "Well think about it. We deal with as many live people-slash-aliens as we do dead ones, but we call the autopsy bay 'the _autopsy_ bay', and this place 'the morgue', despite the fact we have any number of living people packed away with the frozen peas down here."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "I tend to think of them as the medical bay and cold storage personally," he said placidly. "Perhaps it's just you with the penchant for ghoulish thoughts."

"Medical bay," Owen snorted in amusement. "Sounds like something out of Star Trek."

"No, that was sick bay."

"Oh, yeah, right." Owen gave him a suspicious sidelong look. "How do you know that?"

"I know everything." But Ianto was unable to hide his smile and so added, "Also my brother was a sci-fi nut."

"I didn't know you had a brother."

"To be fair, I don't anymore."

Owen gave a little cough of discomfort. "Ah. Sorry," he said awkwardly, but Ianto merely shrugged in response; it had happened so long ago the pain had been almost completely pushed aside.

"Technically though, it _should_ be called the autopsy bay. You've cut up more dead bodies than treated live ones."

"No way! That's not possible with all our injuries over the past few years."

"I could give you precise statistics if you'd like?"

Owen rolled his eyes. "God no, I'd die of boredom. And for good this time."

Ianto smiled faintly and studied the man beside him from the corner of his eye. It seemed that the anger Owen had felt towards Ianto since his death and resurrection had finally started to dissipate. Although Ianto had known Owen's accusation that he was glad for his death had been born of frustration at his situation and not the Welshman personally, it was still a relief to have that tension between them ease somewhat. For one thing they couldn't bicker as usual if there was a risk of Owen taking it the wrong way and Ianto had always found perverse enjoyment in clashing with the other man.

"Well if you ever tire of the zombie gig, at least we know how to put you out of your misery," Ianto said lightly.

"Try it and you're dead."

"Not if you're dead first."

The medic pulled a face and Ianto delighted in holding back any kind of reaction at all, though he was surprised at how a simple return to the norm was helping relax the tight coil in his gut which he'd lived with on and off for the past few months. He bit back a laugh at the idea that he should spend more time with Owen and chided his own mind for even thinking such a ridiculous thing.

As they entered the section of the Hub set aside for tissue storage the joking stopped, their fun diluted by the knowledge that within the coffin-sized chambers lay countless bodies of aliens, innocent human bystanders and previous Torchwood employees. Owen had been right about there being more than one living-but-frozen body held there, but that wasn't something Ianto liked to think about, even if he _had_ made a point of learning the names and stories of all those inside - save the John and Jane Does, of course.

The notion of being trapped within the tiny space always sent a shiver along his spine, but he wasn't about to reveal that to Owen, so he instead reached for his usual mask and hid his true unease as they found and pulled open the drawer that held their slumbering colleague.

Ianto lined up the trolley he'd brought with them alongside the drawer then glanced inside. Gwen looked like a freshly wrapped mummy, bound almost entirely with bandages to cover the lesions that had consumed her body. Only her sickly-pale and drawn face remained visible and Ianto felt a tug in his chest at the sight of the strong woman looking so frail and vulnerable.

"Okay," said Owen, his voice steady and his experience with such forlorn patients clear in his behaviour. "You take her feet, I'll take her head. Lift on three."

Ianto nodded and leaned across to grasp the corners of the sheet beneath Gwen, careful to avoid contact with her delicate body. He winced as the motion pulled at the stitches in his chest.

"You all right?" Owen asked, eyes narrowing at the younger man.

Ianto gave him a baleful look. "I'll be fine."

"Good," the doctor replied, terse at having his rare demonstration of concern so plainly rebuffed.

"But afterwards I may be dead tired," Ianto admitted offhandedly.

Only a few seconds passed before Owen recognised his attempt to lighten the mood and he gave a grunt of amusement. "Well be careful, she's a dead weight."

Ianto nodded sagely then asked, "Are we going to do this or stand here all day in a deadlock?"

"I'm dead set on counting us down." Owen curled his numb fingers tightly around the edges of the sheet as well. "One...two...three!"

They heaved the sleeping woman across onto the metal trolley and Ianto slid the drawer back into place with a deep breath, grateful to turn his back on the icy containers and their contents. He was under no delusion about how close he'd come to being the next inhabitant of that grim collection, but that didn't mean he wanted to be reminded of the fact.

Owen had already started to wheel Gwen off and Ianto hurried after him, his discomfort fading the further away they got from the huge bank of lifeless bodies. "You know, I wouldn't be caught dead in that outfit," he said merrily, eager for a distraction from the fact they were carting around a frozen woman who would have to remain so forever if they failed to find a way to cure her.

Owen looked down at himself and then scowled at Ianto. "Yeah, well..." he began to hedge, "you'd have to be...dead as a dodo to...to constantly live in a suit."

Ianto shook his head and tutted in overt disappointment, whilst Owen growled unhappily at being beaten by the young Welshman. They reached the small lift that enabled secure transport of bodies between the autopsy bay and cold storage and Ianto slid out the long metal tray whilst Owen ran a scanner quickly over Gwen.

As he waited for the doctor to finish, Ianto glanced down, noticing the loose end of a bandage on the side of Gwen's foot. He frowned, troubled by the untidiness and moved to tuck it back into place, but he had barely touched it before he snatched his hand back as though burned, inhaling sharply with shock.

"We've got the wrong-" he broke off, looking up at the end of the trolley where Gwen's face was clearly visible. "No, of course we haven't." He looked back at the foot and the loosened bandage. "Owen," he said, an edge of panic in his voice. "What is this?"

The medic grumbled something under his breath, eyes still fixed on the scanner in his hand and Ianto rolled his eyes. "Owen," he repeated, sharper this time. "Seriously, look at this."

Owen glanced up at last, huffed and then moved down to join him at Gwen's feet, where Ianto pointed at the gap in the gauze, eyebrows raised in expectation. The doctor practically lunged at the foot, peeling away the dressing quickly to reveal what Ianto had noticed.

When he was done, Owen leaned back, bandages gripped in shaking fists and his eyes wide with alarm. Gwen's entire foot was a greyish-green colour, even the sole and toenails, and her skin appeared to be flaking, almost as though someone had painted the appendage and it was now dry and crumbly. Though quite why someone might have painted Gwen's foot was beyond Ianto.

"It's her skin," Owen announced in astonishment, holding one grey/green-flecked bandage aloft. "It's her bloody skin."

He froze, becoming entirely motionless (quite literally, as he neither breathed nor blinked nowadays) staring at Gwen's foot for so long in silence that Ianto began to wonder if he'd broken the other man somehow.

"Is it..." he paused, knowing his suggestion wasn't right, but needing to break the swiftly growing tension, "...is it frostbite?" The idea itself wasn't perhaps all that ridiculous, even though the drawers were designed to avoid such a thing happening, but Ianto had seen frostbite before, and this was definitely _not_ it. Still, the words were enough to snap Owen out of his trance, whereupon he lunged once more for Gwen, this time reaching for her other foot and unwrapping it even quicker than the first.

The same odd grey skin was revealed and both men exchanged a baffled look.

"This is impossible," Owen muttered, tentatively pressing his fingertips to one ankle. "Ah, fuck," he spat, frown deepening as he pulled his hand away again. "Touch her, will you?"

Ianto gaped at him. "What?"

"Well I can't feel a damn thing, can I? You'll have to do it!"

Ianto peered at Gwen's foot, unable to keep the horror from his face. The idea of touching the dull flaking skin made him cringe with faint disgust, even if it _did_ belong to someone he knew and cared about.

"For God's sake," Owen grumbled from his side, "just touch her." He grabbed Ianto's wrist and thrust it at Gwen's ankle, clasping tightly enough to make the younger man hiss with pain. Owen released him quickly, eyes wide. "Sorry!" he blurted, casting an angry glower at his own hand. "Don't know my own strength," he added.

Ianto followed his gaze to the other man's fingers, curled like a talon beneath Owen's scowl. He opened his mouth to reassure the medic that he didn't hold it against him, but before he could say anything, the dark look was turned towards him and Ianto thought better of it. Taking a deep breath, he returned his attention to the rather more pressing matter of Gwen's grey feet, where he obligingly settled his hand upon her skin before Owen could start growling abuse at him.

"She's cold," Ianto said, though that wasn't really a surprise, "and dry. It's like..." he hesitated, stroking across the discoloured skin and causing tiny bits to flake away. He was brought back to his original observation. "It's like paint. Like a layer of paint over her skin." He drew his hand away, rubbing his fingers together and trying to repress a shudder as ice flowed along his spine. The flakes were greasy, leaving smears across his skin, and he grimaced, quickly reaching for the sheet that lay beneath Gwen to wipe away the residue.

"We need to get her upstairs," Owen declared, a distinct tremble of dread in his tone.


	11. Chapter 10

A/N: Yep, this story is still alive and kicking! And as a bonus, the next chapter will follow before the weekend's out and it ONLY has Jack and Ianto in it ;)

* * *

Tosh stood at Gwen's feet, one hand over her mouth and her eyes glimmering with unshed tears. Across from her, Jack was staring down at Gwen's thankfully unaltered face, his own features devoid of emotion, whilst Owen and Ianto flanked the metal bed, both rather pale, albeit for very different reasons.

The room had been silent for what seemed like an age, ever since Owen had announced that Gwen's vitals were perfectly fine - a fact completely at odds with both the state in which they'd frozen her, and the dramatic change in her appearance. The strange turn of events was one nobody had expected, especially not when they'd just been about to start treating the virus that had afflicted her so badly. From a certain point of view, it was encouraging that she could breathe by herself, and even more so that her organs were all functioning properly again, but the flaky discoloured skin was so alarming it almost overshadowed those positive developments.

"How much longer?" she asked, though she couldn't be sure what she was hoping to hear. There was some allure of getting it over and done with, but at the same time she knew how horrified _she _would be if she woke up to find her body had changed so drastically.

"Five minutes," Owen replied. "She's reacting well to the flushing agent."

"She seems to be doing well in most areas, all things considered," Ianto put in. "Other than _that_, of course." He waved a hand at Gwen's body. She was covered by a thick blanket now, but they all knew what he meant.

Tosh stifled a yawn and rubbed her eyes slowly. She was more tired than she'd felt in a long time, but she refused to let it win out. Ianto had already warned her about what he'd do if he caught her with any more coffee in the next few days and, after pouting and failing to sway him with what she'd considered a well-reasoned argument, she was loath to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how badly she needed to sleep.

As with all plans, however, it wasn't destined to run smoothly, and Ianto glanced across in time to see her hiding another yawn behind her hand. He smiled softly and leaned towards her. "Why don't you go and lie down," he suggested in a low voice. "You don't need to be here for this."

"I want to be here," Tosh immediately protested.

"And if you fall asleep on your feet?"

"Then I guess I'll wake up when I hit the floor."

Ianto's smile broadened and she smirked in victory, happy to have won an argument over him for once. "I'll sleep after Gwen's awake," she went on. "After we're sure she's okay." She pulled a face. "I mean...you know what I mean."

"We know," Ianto assured her.

There was another beat of silence before Jack suddenly straightened his back and looked to the Doctor standing at the railing above them. "Do you know what this is?" he asked, voice hard and demanding. Tosh blinked at him, surprised by the fury as he broke the heavy silence he'd adopted since Owen and Ianto had returned from cold storage. She knew he'd been greatly optimistic with the developments concerning Gwen's cure, positive that the Doctor's guidance and Owen's medical knowledge would help return her to a normal state again soon. The astonishing change in Gwen's skin had knocked them all for six, but Jack seemed to be taking it much harder than the rest.

Tosh glanced across at Ianto, remembering their conversation the previous morning about his relationship with Jack. Although he'd insisted they weren't truly a couple, she'd long been able to sense the tension that lay between them, the connection that spoke of something far deeper than simple lust. Even now, with Jack displaying so much anger and horror at the unexpected shift in Gwen's condition, she could see in Ianto's eyes the ache he felt at Jack's undeniable display of love for the woman lying between them.

She sighed quietly, once again wondering how they could both be in such denial when the bond between them was impossible to ignore. Granted, she'd experienced her fair share of unsuccessful crushes in the past, and getting her nerve up to ask a guy out was one of the hardest things she'd encountered in her life, but whenever she'd loved another person, she had always found it hard to hide her feelings. Not purely because she didn't _want_ to hide them, but also because holding them in seemed more painful than the possibility of rejection. Love was far too wondrous a gift to deny it to anyone and sharing it more often than not gave back more than one could have imagined.

Tosh's eyes had drifted on their own accord to Owen and a familiar tightness clenched around her heart. She'd been so close to getting to know Owen outside the Hub and that was all she'd really wanted: to learn about him as a person and vice versa, so that if there _was_ anything there, it might have the chance to grow. Naturally, fate could never be so considerate and what could have been was now nothing more than an impossible fantasy.

Vision beginning to blur again, Tosh swallowed hard, cursing herself for dwelling on her own loss when Gwen was still suffering without reason. The thought couldn't stop the tears from threatening to fall, however, and she forced herself to focus instead on Jack, who was still glaring up at their visitor.

"Well?" he growled. "Do you?"

The Doctor tilted his head. "That's a vague question. Have I seen this before? No. But can I tell what's happening to her?" He shrugged. "Yes, of course."

"And...?" Jack prompted, almost trembling with the effort of holding back his temper.

"Well it's obvious, isn't it? Her DNA's being altered."

"Her DNA?" echoed Ianto, turning to look at the Doctor as well. "The virus is changing her _actual_ DNA?"

Owen was nodding at the Doctor's explanation, clearly of the same opinion. "The virus was the delivery agent," he explained in a tight voice. "If we...if _you_ didn't have immunity to it, you'd all look like Gwen right now."

"But how?" Ianto pressed. "It can't be that easy to change someone at the genetic level."

"Not here and now. But the way science is progressing, it isn't hard to assume something like this will be child's play in the future."

"Bloody hell," the Welshman muttered.

"What about the cryo?" asked Jack, turning his scowl on Owen. "Why did she go in with just a rash and come out like this?"

"Two possibilities." Owen glanced towards the Doctor, and Tosh guessed they'd already discussed the issue whilst examining Gwen. "Either the unit's malfunctioning and she was never fully frozen, or else the virus was programmed to override any outside influence that would hinder its progression through her body."

"I'm running a diagnostic on the unit now," Tosh told the Captain. "It should have triggered an alarm if there were any problems, but of course we can't rule it out."

Ianto hummed suddenly, frowning down at Gwen, deep in thought. "The virus was manufactured to carry a genetic code that was _also_ manufactured, right?" he asked quietly, almost to himself, and he didn't wait for an answer. "So the plan all along must have been for us to end up like this."

Tosh swallowed, sickened by the idea that somebody could have intentionally wanted to do this to them. "Gwen left the Hub after the pod was opened," she said, growing even more horrified as she spoke. "If she hadn't gone straight to her flat, or if Rhys hadn't been away..." she drew in a shaky breath, "God...it could have been a pandemic!"

The idea brought everyone to a standstill, lost in their thoughts at what could have occurred, until suddenly a hitch in Gwen's rhythmic breathing brought their attention back to the bed.

* * *

Gwen couldn't look away from her arms.

She wasn't entirely convinced that she wasn't dreaming, or at least hallucinating, and although staring wasn't really helping her prove it either way, she simply couldn't tear her eyes from the limbs stuck out before her.

She'd woken looking up at a circle of blurred faces and muted voices, and for a few long seconds she hadn't a clue where she was or what had happened. Then the haze in her vision had begun to clear and her sluggish thoughts finally produced memories of infuriating itchiness, sore blisters and being told she was to be frozen whilst a treatment was found. She had smiled then, a weak, relieved smile, for – the discounting of her medical wishes aside – if she'd been taken out of stasis then it meant they'd cured her. But the smile hadn't been returned and, as she'd stared at the glum faces overhead, her own expression had twisted into one of confusion and fear.

Owen had explained that the virus (or Rash-ese disease, as Ianto still insisted they call it) which had threatened to shut down her internal organs had all but vanished from her body, leaving no sign of there ever being any trouble with the functioning of her heart or lungs. He'd then broken the news of what had taken its place, and it was at that point she'd begun to suspect that she'd never really woken up.

She turned her arms over again, completely numb as she took in the dull grey-green which covered almost every inch of her body, save her face. Even her palms were the same sickly colour and when she curled her fingers, the skin crinkled and flaked away.

Before she'd fallen into the drugged daze that had proceeded being frozen, Gwen recalled clearly the irritating rash and red welts that Owen had hidden within layers of white gauze. It seemed impossible to have gone from sores that oozed blood and other purulent fluids to this dry lizard-skin without her remembering it.

"How do you feel?" Jack asked, breaking the hush that had descended whilst she studied her new appearance.

Gwen dragged her gaze away from her arms to gape up at him. "Feel? I feel fine," she said, stunned that she was able to make that claim. "I look like...I don't know _what_ I look like, but I feel fine." She shook her head in disbelief. "When did this happen?" she asked, pushing her hands out towards the others.

It didn't make sense to Gwen that she could forget something so important, but perhaps those last few days had been worse than she remembered. She looked expectantly to Owen for a rational explanation but he merely grimaced at her. "That happened in the freezer."

"Eh?" she responded dumbly, her colleague's words doing nothing to convince her that she was awake. "But...frozen!" she declared, voice lifting a full two octaves.

"We know," Jack said, flashing her a grin that was plainly forced. "Tosh is looking into it, but it's possible the virus simply wasn't affected by the freezing process."

"This is crazy," Gwen muttered. "Can someone please pinch me?" There was only an awkward silence in response and she sighed. "I'm still contagious then, am I?"

"No, they just don't want to touch you," Owen told her.

"Owen!" hissed Tosh, cheeks flushing with sudden embarrassment. "That isn't true," she hurried to assure the other woman.

Gwen grunted dubiously. "Don't worry, I probably wouldn't want to touch this either." She prodded at her own forearm then shrugged. "But I can hardly feel anything, so I guess it isn't a problem for me."

"You can't feel anything?" Owen asked, leaning closer as his medical curiosity was piqued.

"It's like I'm wearing thick gloves," she told him with another shrug.

"Huh," Owen said. "Handy for a quick 'stranger'."

"A what?" asked the Doctor and despite her situation Gwen couldn't stop herself from giving a snort of amusement.

Her knowledge of the Doctor was limited to Jack's vague comments and the details she and the others had uncovered when Jack had disappeared earlier that year. It wasn't much to go on, hardly enough to form an opinion of the man, and yet within only a few minutes of being introduced to him, Gwen felt the inclination to trust him implicitly. It might have been her instincts, or simply just how he interacted so naturally with her friends, but she found herself unable to feel any resentment that this outsider was seeing her in this bizarre and frightful state.

"Don't," Ianto was saying, pointing a stern finger at Owen and Gwen's smile grew wider.

"I guess that's proof enough I'm not dreaming," she declared. "No way would my subconscious make up that conversation." There was some uncomfortable chuckling and Gwen lifted her hands to study them once again. "I still don't get it. This didn't happen when you caught this virus, did it?"

"No," Jack answered. He reached out to take one of her hands and she looked up at him with a grateful smile. "We didn't have any of the problems you had, other than the rash, but what we caught was a natural virus. Yours was manufactured."

Gwen frowned, eyes darting to the others in confusion. "I don't understand."

"The virus was created in a lab," Owen explained. "With, most likely, the express purpose of doing this to us." He waved at her exposed arms.

"Eh?" she said, screwing up her nose in disbelief. "To make us look like reptiles with eczema? What's the point in that?" Her quick mind suddenly threw up a more pressing question. "Wait, the virus was in that old pod thing, right? Why are you saying it was intended to do this to _us_?"

Owen's mouth opened, but nothing came out and he looked at Jack with the expression of one who'd let something important slip. Gwen followed his gaze and met the Captain's bright eyes. "Spill it," she ordered.

"Look, we can't be sure," Jack began, "but it seems she sent the virus here to punish me-"

"She?" Gwen interrupted sharply. "You know who did this to me?"

Jack licked his lips in a rare display of anxiety. "Lurrelia, we think." He then lifted his hands to stop her spluttered response. "We _think_," he reiterated.

Owen, who evidentially hadn't been privy to that information either, rounded on the immortal. "What the fuck?" he demanded. "She's dead! You said she was dead!"

"She is," Jack replied firmly. "It just looks like her coming here might not have been her first plan."

"She probably sent the message pod to infect us before she travelled here herself," Tosh explained, laying a hand on Owen's tensed arm.

"To infect the entire human race," Ianto added.

"That's what we're assuming at least," said Jack. "But it stands to reason. She held me accountable for the ruin of her people through genetics, so she'd probably want to bring about the ruin of mine in the same way."

Gwen started to doubt her earlier assertion that she was definitely awake. "Bugger," she said with a groan, dropping her head back onto the pillows. Then another thought struck her and she sat up again with a jolt. "I left the Hub!" she cried. "No one else would have the immunity you have, they-"

"It's okay," Jack reassured her quickly. "You didn't come into contact with anyone when you were outside. Remember?"

Her brow crinkled in thought and then smoothed with relief. "Oh thank God," she breathed. The idea sent a thrill of ice-cold fear through her body and she shuddered, horrified by what could have happened if she'd spread such a horrific virus to just one person outside. "So, next question. Are you able to fix this?"

Glances were exchanged and she noted with interest that they finally came to rest on the Doctor. He gave them all a wry smile, before sticking his hands into his pockets and shrugging. "I'm sure your scientists have enough knowledge to correct this level of genetic disruption without needing me to hold their hands."

Owen arched an eyebrow at him. "Gene therapy?" The Time Lord nodded and Owen frowned.

"Owen?" pressed Jack.

"Somatic gene therapy," Owen replied. "It's not really my area but it's probably our best shot. I mean, if this guy isn't going to whip out some miracle cure from the future to save us all a lot of time and suffering."

Jack glanced at the Doctor then shook his head, lips pressed into a thin line. "If he had that kind of thing on him, he wouldn't be able to use it." He didn't look impressed by his own statement. "There are rules, right?"

The Doctor said nothing, merely held Jack's gaze in what seemed to be a silent conversation.

"You can do this somatic thing?" Gwen asked Owen, when she grew tired of the tension in the room.

"Like I said, it isn't my area. We'll have to find someone who specialises in it and bring them here." Owen folded his arms and considered her with a scowl. "It'll take a while, even provided nothing else changes."

Gwen's eyes grew wide again. "What?" she asked fiercely. "Oh no no, don't you dare even _suggest_ anything else might happen to me, Owen Harper, I can't take any more of this!" She waved her arms, as though he might have forgotten her current state.

"I don't know," the Doctor piped up, having evidentially finished his wordless battle with the Captain. "You seem to be handling it pretty well."

Gwen glared at him. "Jack, your Doctor hasn't got a very good bedside manner, has he? I don't know why you bothered running off after him before."

"He is an acquired taste," Jack agreed. "But he's right, you do look-"

"Sound," Ianto muttered.

"-_sound_ considerably better," Jack finished, grinning at the younger man as though they were part of a double act.

Ianto smiled back at him and, though it lasted for barely a second, Gwen was certain that there'd been something rather more emotive in his expression than she'd ever seen pass between the two men before.

"Rhys!" she exclaimed, her thoughts snapping abruptly to the man who looked at _her_ like that. "Oh God, has he seen me like this?" Without waiting for an answer, she tried to climb down from the bed in an inexplicable attempt to hide herself from someone who wasn't even there.

The machines around her squawked in protest and she became tangled in the wires and tubes connected to her body, whilst around her the room descended into bedlam as everyone rushed at once to try and keep her in place.


	12. Chapter 11

A/N: Two in two days! It won't happen again, but enjoy the treat ;)

* * *

There were a lot of people crammed into the bar that night, more than Jack might have expected for a Monday, but it really wasn't that much of a surprise when he thought about it, considering what he knew of people in general.

He smiled to himself and relaxed into the low leather sofa, one arm stretched along the back of the cushions, his eyes scanning the room lazily. Of course, he couldn't judge their choices anyway, seeing as he and Ianto were there for pretty much the same reason as everyone else.

At the thought of Ianto, his attention jumped back to where the young man stood at the bar. Jack's gaze swept slowly over his body, from head to toe and back up again to his face, which was in profile to the Captain as he studied the people beside him whilst he waited. Had Ianto himself been behind that bar, Jack had no doubt that he could've pre-empted each person's needs from a single glance and served it faster than the professionals.

However, even though it meant a longer wait before his lover returned to his side, Jack wouldn't have wished Ianto into such a safe and normal life as that; not least because it'd mean the Welshman wouldn't be around to pre-empt _his_ needs.

Chuckling at his own thoughts, Jack rested his head back against the soft leather and sighed. It felt good to be out of the oppressive atmosphere in the Hub and he was glad Ianto had more or less insisted they all take a break, if only for a few hours. There was nothing they could do that night which couldn't wait for the morning and the determination in Ianto's expression as he suggested they go out told Jack the Welshman was in need of a brief escape just as much as everyone else.

Though his concerns were of course for Gwen's wellbeing, Jack understood that the mad rush for a cure had finally ended and the cloud hanging over their heads since she'd first fallen ill had dissipated. Even when she'd been frozen it had felt like they'd been racing against the clock, though looking back, it'd clearly been the lack of any solid facts that had made them so frantic. Now they had more of an idea of what was going on, including the reassurance that her life was no longer in immediate danger and, as a result, they were able to take a step back and breathe easy for the first time in over a month.

Some internal sensor made him lift his head again in time to see Ianto turning away from the bar, drinks in hand and a wry smile upon his face. The bartender had flirted with him then, Jack surmised, well acquainted with that particular expression; Ianto was always distrustful of those who paid him too much attention, not seeing within himself a reason why they would want to do so, and thus feeling a joke was being had at his expense, or that some ulterior motive spawned their words. Jack felt he'd done pretty well in proving to the young man just how much appeal he actually held to anyone with eyes and ears, but sometimes those old neuroses surfaced in moments of emotional upheaval.

Such as finding out he was suddenly frozen in time.

Jack watched Ianto weaving his way through the crowd swamping the bar, asking people politely to step aside then apologising for the inconvenience, completely ignorant of the appreciative glances that followed his passing. Jack's eyes took another journey down his body as he approached, taking in the full effect of the casual outfit Ianto had changed into. As much as Jack liked to see him in a suit, it wasn't exactly a hardship to see him _out_ of a suit either. And not in the literal way that heated Jack's blood so easily.

Ianto reached their corner and sat, setting down the bottles and glasses he'd successfully juggled through the pack of civilians. "Don't people normally have early nights on weekdays?" he observed, albeit with little real criticism.

Jack responded by slipping a hand around the back of the young man's head and pulling him close enough to ravage his mouth. Ianto's lips parted immediately to let Jack in, a quiet moan escaping his throat, both surprised and pleased by the sudden gesture. Their tongues slid together in a practised dance, Jack delving deep to savour the pure taste of Ianto's mouth before any alcohol altered the flavour. When the Captain pulled back a fraction, Ianto blinked heavily at him, eyes trying to refocus on the face so near to his own. "What was that for?" he asked in a roughened voice.

"Do I need a reason?" Jack murmured, gaze fixed on Ianto's wet lips. "Though making so many people jealous at once is a good side effect."

There was an empty moment before Ianto actually heard what Jack had said, then he frowned, leaning away and glancing out of the dark corner. Jack smiled as the other man's cheeks flushed lightly upon realising a fair number of faces were turned their way, and grinned even wider when Ianto tried to mask his embarrassment by reaching for one of the glasses of whiskey.

When he'd finished enjoying the view of Ianto savouring his drink, Jack dragged his eyes from the Welshman's neck and followed suit, savouring the warmth of the amber liquid. It wasn't often that he really drank, conscious that he needed to stay alert in case of an emergency, but there were still times when he welcomed the disconnection that a little alcohol could provide.

"Why are we here?" Jack asked, after they'd each taken another few sips.

Ianto looked from Jack's face to the glass in his hand then back again, mouth curling in amusement. "You suggested a drink."

"But why _here_?" he pressed. "We usually go to that pub just off the Plass."

"And you've just answered your own question," Ianto told him cryptically, before relenting beneath Jack's narrowed eyes. "We, as in the whole team, go to that pub. It didn't feel right going there without them."

The explanation was sound, and yet Jack felt sure there was another reason: a reason which he could easily deduce. "Also, a bar is less conducive to deep and meaningful conversations, right?"

Ianto's expression tightened just a fraction. "The music isn't that loud back here. In fact I can hear you perfectly."

"You're right," the Captain agreed. "In that case-"

"Jack, don't," interrupted Ianto, closing his eyes to shut out the awkward conversation. "Can't we just forget about everything for tonight?"

Jack didn't respond right away, caught for a moment by the play of colourful lights over Ianto's face. It made him look like a sculpture, ethereal and insubstantial, and Jack was struck suddenly by the realisation that the young man would remain that way for as long as he lived.

It was a strange thought to have right then, considering he'd learnt of Ianto's condition so many hours earlier, but it seemed almost as though the ramifications had only passed halfway into his mind and it was just in that moment that he'd finally made the last few connections.

"I didn't come here to forget," Jack said, causing Ianto to fall back against the sofa cushions with a sigh that would have impressed even the most petulant of teenagers.

"The test results weren't conclusive," Ianto reminded him. "You heard what Owen said."

"I did. But I also heard what the Doctor said." Jack gave a shrug, refusing to apologise for where his trust lay. "This is real, Ianto."

The Welshman glared out the corner of his eye but remained silent and Jack was hard pressed not to smile at the juvenile sulk in which he was indulging. The fact he was reacting in such a way, however, told Jack something very important: that Ianto knew deep down Jack was right.

Leaning closer, Jack settled a hand on Ianto's thigh. "He knows what he's talking about. That's why I called for him to help Gwen, and that's why I know he's right about you."

Ianto's brow puckered briefly before his entire face brightened in sudden realisation. "Houdini!" he declared and Jack pulled back to peer down at him in suspicion.

"Ye-es?" he asked carefully. "What about him?"

"The Magician, I mean," Ianto went on. "I think she was talking about the Doctor."

Jack eyed Ianto's glass, wondering if it contained more than just whiskey. "She who?"

"That little girl. Your Tarot reader. She said skill would save Gwen, but not our own. She must have meant him. He's the Magician."

Jack's memory helpfully threw up the night they'd gone looking for the girl (a girl, he noted, who didn't age...not that he thought it wise to point that out right then) and the reading she'd performed for Ianto. At the time the young man had scoffed at her words, so ambiguous were they, which made Jack even more perplexed by Ianto's comment.

He arched a dubious eyebrow. "So...are you saying you accept her reading now?"

Ianto grimaced then gave a helpless shrug. "Yesterday I had the spine of a creature from the Time Vortex through my chest that _may_ have stopped me aging. If that isn't literally piercing my heart with Time, I don't know what is."

Jack's eyebrow crept even higher. "Did you get a bump on the head as well?"

"Look," Ianto said, shifting around on the sofa to better face his lover, "I know what I said before, but it's really only the vagaries I have trouble with, you know." He saw the doubt in Jack's expression and tried to explain. "What I mean is, if someone's going to predict your future, couldn't they just tell you to expect a hole in the chest and be done with it?"

"But if someone told you that, wouldn't you try to avoid it?"

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Jack, I can honestly say there has never been a time when I've _sought_ a hole in the chest."

Jack grinned, but refused to let him off so easily. "What about the rest of it then?"

The question caused Ianto's frown to return and his eyes glazed slightly as he replayed the memory of that evening. "She said I was looking for something, but in the wrong place. Then once my heart had been pierced by Time, I'd be able to see clearly again."

"And that was too vague for you?"

"Of course it was. It still is! It's almost as vague as the horoscopes in a trashy magazine. But she said that Time would stop, whilst the Wheel of Fortune still turned. If the Doctor's right, then Time _has_ stopped for me, for my body, but it hasn't stopped in any other way."

Jack let the other man talk, watching Ianto's muted body language, attempting to read between the lines of his sudden exposition. For such a down-to-earth person, one who would scoff at almost anything that couldn't be proven by cold, hard facts, Ianto's abrupt acceptance of both the Tarot reading and the Doctor's diagnosis caught Jack off guard. It did mean, however, that they were now skirting around the very conversation Ianto had been trying to avoid since the Doctor's announcement.

"We see so much in our work," the Captain said, still watching Ianto closely. "Things people wouldn't dream of unless they'd experienced them as we have. I'm surprised you've only now expressed any belief in fortune-telling."

Ianto pulled a face and Jack turned further towards him, resting his elbow on the back of the sofa and his head against his hand, opening himself physically to encourage Ianto to confide in him. "But maybe it has more to do with acceptance, than disbelief," he suggested. "You've spoken of destiny in the past, so I wonder if it's the idea of a stranger being able to see the direction of your life that bothers you so much."

For a moment Jack thought Ianto would deny it and try to brush off the matter, but instead the younger man merely gave a faint smile. "I do like my privacy," he admitted.

There was something in the blue of Ianto's eyes, a brightening that gave Jack sudden hope; though what that hope was for, he couldn't be positive. "Maybe that's why soothsayers are so vague."

Ianto nodded. "So we can read as much into the prediction as we wish." He gave a quiet laugh and switched his empty glass for the bottle of lager. "I don't know, Jack. It's hard to truly believe something like that without any physical evidence. I can make her reading fit into everything that's happened to us, but it's with no small measure of imagination."

"Does it matter?"

That caught Ianto by surprise and he frowned again at his lover. "Doesn't it?"

"You had your future read and at the time it meant nothing to you. Now events have occurred that match the reading and you can make sense of what she told you. But what does it matter knowing now that she might have been right back then?"

"That's..." Ianto licked his lips. "That's very true."

"I know you like to make sense of things," Jack said, "and finding reason in that little girl's words is understandable, but at the end of the day you can't do anything about it. Everything's already happened."

Ianto nodded absently, gaze fixed somewhere past Jack's shoulder. "You could spend your entire life looking for patterns and hints about the future, all the while missing out on the experience of simply living." His voice was distant, words directed more to himself than Jack. "Second guessing every decision out of fear you wouldn't be able to fix it if you choose incorrectly."

Jack reached out, lifting Ianto's free hand from his side and twisting their fingers together. He didn't say anything, recognising the other man's process of contemplation. It was clear Ianto was settling in his mind a few matters that had been troubling him, and the squaring away of such concerns could only be done by himself.

Jack did, however, silently will that Ianto's new agelessness would be one of the issues targeted. He hadn't failed to notice that Ianto was referring to the situation as more and more of a certainty, rather than just the ridiculous claim of an alien, so he hoped that before long the true scope of the possibilities now open to Ianto would be up for discussion.

"You're being very..." Ianto paused, searching his mental dictionary for the right word, "deep." He scowled, apparently not very happy with his final decision. "Serious," he amended. "For you, I mean. In this kind of situation."

Jack pouted. "Hey, I can do serious when it's necessary."

"Usually it takes an alien hell-bent on destroying the world for you to keep up a solemn conversation, but here we are debating the philosophy of fortune-telling."

"I'm not sure I like the light you're painting me in," Jack told him with a mock scowl. He couldn't really be offended by such observations – he'd certainly been accused of worse before – and he knew also that time had changed a lot of his priorities; meaning that the need to scrutinize every nuance of life wasn't something he felt very often nowadays. It was far more preferable to simply enjoy it when he could and avoid thinking about the inevitable bleak moments which would steal that pleasure from him.

"Sorry," Ianto winched, "that sounded bad. God knows I'm not above deflecting awkward situations with humour."

Jack squeezed the hand entwined with his own. "It's more about personal preference than awkwardness. After a few centuries you'll see how tiresome certain conversations can be."

He didn't expect the comment to slip past Ianto's sharp mind, but that hadn't stopped him from saying it. Instead of protesting, however, Ianto merely rolled his eyes and took a long pull of his drink, giving Jack ample reason to smirk in victory.

"You realise, of course, not everything from the girl's reading has happened," the younger man said, after a few minutes of silence. Jack cocked an eyebrow and motioned for him to continue. "She said when the Doctor got here that the Sun would prevail."

"The Sun representing success." The Captain nodded slowly in recollection. "Are you saying he's already failed to save Gwen?"

Ianto gave an indulgent smile. "No, Jack. I'm saying I don't think even the change in her condition will keep him from helping her."

* * *

_Does it matter? _

The question echoed continually in Ianto's head for the entire journey back to his flat. There was an undeniable truth in those words, but it simply couldn't stop him from dissecting the Tarot reading whilst he walked. Most of the details alluded to were indeed in the past, and dwelling upon them was something akin to sticking one's tongue in the gap left by a missing tooth, irritating the sore spot for no other reason than because it was there, but there was one point that simply refused to be swept away by common sense.

The girl had mentioned his search for something and, though he'd first assumed it was their hunt for Gwen's cure, he had soon come to realise it could just as easily mean the release he'd been seeking for his strained emotions. She'd said he had been looking in the wrong place and he was inclined to agree, especially considering that since Jack had taken over from his hired sadist, Ianto had felt far more in control of himself. But what truly caught like a burr in his mind was her claim that he'd been looking for the wrong _thing_...

Jack, half a pace ahead of him, stopped suddenly and Ianto realised they were standing before his door, without him having paid any attention to the walk at all. "Going to do the honours?" the Captain asked, amusement in his voice.

Ianto pretended to glower at him, digging the keys out of his pocket and wondering how the other man had managed to keep so quiet for the past ten minutes. He unlocked the door, stepped through, and started to shrug off his jacket.

Jack was on him the moment his arms were immobilised, spinning them both and pushing Ianto back against the door.

"Oof!" he declared in surprise. "Jack!"

The older man merely chuckled, reached around him to lock the door, then settled his hands on Ianto's hips. "So," he drawled, leaning in until he filled Ianto's entire field of vision. "Whisk as usual?"

_Whisk_, Ianto's mind echoed, as Jack licked the skin beneath his ear. Why was Jack asking about their safeword? He didn't need _that_ tonight, did he? The immortal pressed harder against him, hands stroking firmly around his ribs and down to his backside. Granted, Ianto had frequently denied his need for the release of tension that their playing could provide, even when Jack could plainly see it upon his anxious features, but he was pretty sure he was doing okay right now.

In fact, he was feeling rather more than just 'okay', thanks to the time they'd spent away from the Hub. "Jack, wait."

A soft growl rumbled in Jack's chest, felt more than heard through their entwined bodies, and he bit at the join between Ianto's neck and shoulder. The young man gasped, hips bucking forward, groin crashing into Jack's, and it took all of Ianto's strength to keep from squeezing his eyes shut and giving into the sensation. "Wh-whisk," he stuttered, hoping distantly that it had emerged as a recognisable word instead of a moan.

Ianto had never used the safeword before, but Jack's response was instantaneous, as he pulled back with a jolt, empty hands held open in as non-threatening a manner as possible. He looked at Ianto with a mixture of confusion and concern, whilst the younger man merely slumped against the door and released a big breath.

It was incredibly reassuring to witness Jack honouring their agreement (not that Ianto had really doubted him, but the first test was always going to be the most daunting) and he nodded gratefully at his lover.

"Thank you," he breathed, untangling the jacket from around his hands. He let it drop carelessly to the floor before stepping forward and sliding his fingers into Jack's hair, pulling the older man into a deep kiss.

Jack opened his mouth to Ianto's determined tongue, arms encircling him again, but he returned the kiss with a certain hesitation. After a few moments, the immortal broke away and leaned back just far enough to meet the other man's eyes. "I don't understand."

Ianto smiled. "I don't want that tonight," he explained, dropping his hands to the lapels of Jack's coat and beginning to push it off his shoulders. "I guess you thought I needed it, but I don't."

The greatcoat vanished and Ianto's fingers moved onto Jack's shirt buttons. The Captain stared dumbly at their swift and nimble work. "You said the safeword," he pointed out, brow creasing with suspicion and Ianto laughed.

"That stops the game, it doesn't stop this." He rocked his lower body into Jack's, bringing the solid heat of his arousal into contact with the other's crotch.

"Oh," said Jack, grin slowly returning to his lips.

* * *

Ianto's arms wrapped tightly around Jack's neck, holding the immortal close enough to kiss, though they'd long abandoned that act in favour of dragging air into their toiling lungs. Their noses bumped, damp lips occasionally skimming, eyelashes brushing against pink cheeks and moans combining in the narrow space between them.

Jack jerked his hips forward, pushing deep into Ianto with short powerful bursts that gradually inched them across the bed. The flesh surrounding his cock throbbed, blazing hot and quite easily the most perfect place Jack could imagine being right then. Beneath him Ianto writhed, back arching as he threw his body up to meet each of Jack's eager thrusts, their bodies crashing together, almost hard enough to bruise.

"God!" Ianto gasped suddenly, breath washing over Jack's face. He twisted, mouth hanging open and eyes rolling back in his head.

The older man smirked, smug at the reaction he was producing, yet also incredibly impressed that Ianto had held his tongue for so long. Jack had been steadily hitting his lover's prostate for at least five minutes straight, observing with fascination the increments by which Ianto's control broke down. Now an actual word had escaped his lips, when before his only concession had been helpless groans, and Jack's own control melted away.

Pushing his knees further beneath Ianto's thighs, Jack grasped the quivering legs and pulled them sharply towards him each time he plunged into that tight burning hole. Ianto, hiccupping now with pleasure, refused to unlock his arms from Jack's neck and instead curled up to accommodate the movement, stomach muscles straining and fresh sweat breaking out across his skin.

"Good?" Jack asked, noting with some amusement the breathless quality of his own voice. Had he been trying to play an aloof role that night, it would probably all have crumbled at that single panted word.

"St...upid," responded Ianto disjointedly.

Jack gave a laugh, or at least a weak gasping version of laughter, and ducked his head to press his lips to the bandages encircling Ianto's chest. He could feel the thick gauze pad covering the young man's stitches and pushed his face against it, breathing into the material and letting the sterile smell mix with Ianto's unique scent in his nose and mouth. The touch made Ianto shudder, a little strangled moan bubbling in his throat, but any wish Jack might have felt for his lover to be uninjured was outweighed by the knowledge that the perfectly circular wound had opened up an entirely new avenue for both their futures.

Ianto's intention to cling tightly to Jack failed him suddenly and his body fell back onto the bed, short nails scraping over Jack's glistening skin as he reluctantly lost his grip. There was no hesitation in Jack's next move, as he swiftly untangled the legs around his waist and instead hooked both knees over his shoulders.

The new position took him impossibly deeper into Ianto's body and the younger man's breath began to catch with each inward push, a clear sign that the edge was rushing upon him. Jack leaned forward to drop his weight onto one hand, bending Ianto further in on himself and giving him a better view of his lover's expression. He wrapped his other hand around Ianto's erection, squeezing hard to match the tightness of the muscles around his own cock.

"Ungh!" Ianto cried, hands flailing across the rumpled covers. He grasped at Jack's arms, fingers sliding over straining muscles before abruptly digging into the slick flesh as his entire body stiffened and his seed exploded over Jack's fist.

Jack's motions didn't slow at all, not even the hand surrounding the other man's cock, and Ianto's breathing became even more ragged as his tender flesh was pumped of any lingering trace of his orgasm. His strength gone, Ianto's hands dropped again to his sides, fingers twisting uselessly in the sweat-damp sheets. Each squirm of prolonged pleasure took Jack's own lust to greater heights, new energy urging forward his hips with increased fervour as he saw his own peak looming before him.

"Ianto," he murmured. "Look at me."

His only response was a shake of the head, the Welshman defiant and likely desperate to cling to whatever remaining dignity he possessed. Jack grinned, releasing his grip on Ianto's cock and instead taking hold of his wrists, pinning them to the bed on either side of Ianto's head. He arched his back, leaning in close to the flushed features beneath him.

Folded almost in two, like a piece of erotic origami, Ianto writhed and bucked, eyelashes fluttering and mouth agape, the sound of his panting mingling lewdly with the slap of skin against skin. Nothing could dislodge Jack now, however, and he dipped his head to swipe his tongue across Ianto's parted lips. The young man gave a tiny jolt of surprise, eyes popping open and locking immediately with Jack's own.

"Good," Jack tried to say, but it degraded into a groan as he gave a few more forceful pumps with his hips and tumbled helplessly over the edge into the supernova of Ianto's lust-darkened eyes.


	13. Chapter 12

A/N: I know, I suck at updating :) And I'm not even gonna make excuses! :P

* * *

Drawing in a deep breath, Jack pushed himself to his feet, reluctantly leaving the warmth of the big bed to go in search of his clothes. It was almost five in the morning and he wasn't willing to be away from the Hub for much longer, even though Owen was on site to handle any problems during the five minutes it would take the Captain to dash back.

By the time he reached the kitchen, Jack had found enough garments to cover his lower half and he diverted for a moment to switch on the only high-end appliance that graced the minimalist apartment. He yawned as the scent of roasted beans filled the air, but it was merely a routine action that had little to do with any real fatigue.

He hadn't actually slept at all, despite thoroughly exhausting both himself and Ianto, but had instead lain motionless beneath the covers, mind adrift whilst Ianto's rhythmic breathing kept it from settling on any one subject for too long. It was definitely sufficient rest for his body: Jack frequently rose from such a respite far more invigorated than when he used to sleep at night and that morning was no exception. He inhaled the growing scent of coffee, eagerly awaiting the brewing liquid, but he was already as alert as he was going to get and it was sheer indulgence that kept him hovering at the counter instead of rushing back to the Hub.

A slight rustle came from the bedroom and Jack glanced over his shoulder, listening to see if he'd woken Ianto. No other sounds followed and he returned to his task, emerging from the kitchen a few minutes later sipping at the scorching drink. "T-shirt," he muttered to himself, trying to remember whereabouts that particular item had ended up in the midst of their frantic disrobing.

Ianto's flat really wasn't that large, so it didn't take Jack long to come to the conclusion that it, along with his outer shirt, had to be in the bedroom and he wandered back, amused by the illogical order of his trail of clothes. Jack's thoughts of either shirt soon vanished, however, when faced with the view of Ianto now sprawled out across the bed, only his groin covered by the rumpled sheets.

It was peculiarly endearing to see the careless way in which the other man slept, considering the restraint he exhibited in his movements when awake, and Jack stood beside the bed, studying the other's body whilst he finished his coffee. The slow rise and fall of Ianto's bandaged chest was particularly hypnotic, as was the light trail of hair running from his bellybutton down into the sheets, but as Jack traced that line into the realms of his imagination, he found himself recalling an old wives tale about catching colds from sleeping with a bare stomach.

The Captain smiled, occasionally surprised by the memories that sometimes drifted out of the long distant past, especially ones that had no pain connected to them. He stepped forward and tugged gently at the sheet, covering Ianto's chest before retrieving the shirts he could see tangled in the far corner of the room.

Quite how they'd got there, he couldn't be sure, not when he was positive he'd been naked by the time Ianto had walked him backwards into the room, but at least the hunt had brought him back in time for the treat of seeing Ianto's slumbering abandon.

"-re's clean 'n drawer," the very man slurred suddenly and Jack looked over at him with a grin.

"And what would that be in English?" he laughed.

Ianto responded with a haughty sniff. "Top drawer," he said, waving a limp hand towards the dresser. "Clean."

Jack followed the command and found there were indeed clean and pressed t-shirts filling the entire top drawer of the bureau. "Huh," he said, pulling one out and holding it up to himself. It was clearly too wide to belong to Ianto. "When did I get a drawer?"

"Wardrobe," Ianto murmured, one eye opening just barely into a slit.

It took Jack a few seconds to realise he wasn't being corrected over the name of the furniture, after which he obediently stepped over to the wardrobe and discovered within a half-dozen of his shirts hanging neatly at one end. Eyebrows creeping upwards, he glanced over his shoulder but Ianto had rolled onto his side and Jack could only see the curve of his back now.

"Hmm," said Jack, with a faint smile. He skirted around the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress, leaning across Ianto and propping himself up on one hand. "I have rail space too?"

"Easier," Ianto responded, eyes still closed. "Stops you stretching my stuff."

"True," agreed Jack. He didn't know quite what else to say. Whenever any previous lovers had presented him with keys or a drawer he'd been expecting it, always able to spot the ones who wanted a deeper commitment. This time, however, he couldn't rule out the possibility that Ianto simply thought it _was_ easier this way. A few times in the past, when Jack had been at the flat when trouble had arisen, he'd grabbed something of Ianto's to wear. They were close enough in height, but Jack was broader, and he'd ended up clad in clothing rather tighter than usual. Not that Ianto begrudged him borrowing the clothes, but with everything having its place and all, Jack could honestly believe that Ianto would think it perfectly normal to have some spare items of Jack's at the flat.

Jack moved his hand to Ianto's back, fingers sliding over the bumps of his vertebrae. A slight shiver passed through the younger man and he squinted up at the Captain. "Want to share a shower?" he asked, starting to push himself up only to have Jack kiss him back into the pillow.

"Go back to sleep. You still need to heal."

"It's fine."

"It's not fine, you almost died."

Ianto gave a soft snort of laughter. "Occupational hazard." He tried to sit up again but Jack blocked his way.

"Stay here."

"No."

"Stay!"

"I'm not a dog, Jack," he said in amusement, pushing against the older man's chest. Jack grinned and captured the hand in his own, eyes flicking down automatically and...

He froze, smile melting away as he noticed the bruises circling Ianto's wrist. There was no doubt in his mind what had caused them, having seen far too many injuries in his life not to recognise when flesh had been gripped too hard.

Something twisted in his chest, recalling their activities a few hours earlier and the way he'd pinned Ianto down just before orgasm had roared over him. He swallowed, feeling faintly sick; Ianto had asked him not to go down that route but he'd been unable to resist trapping Ianto's hands right at the end. Even if it wasn't strictly bondage, the allusion was still there, and the force with which Jack expressed it was made all too clear by the bruising now marring his pale skin.

"What's wrong?" Ianto asked, muscles moving beneath Jack's palm as he waggled his fingers, trying to get the other man's attention. He followed Jack's gaze to his wrist and gave a wry smile. "Ah," he said dismissively. "That was Owen. He grabbed me without thinking how hard he was squeezing."

"Owen?" echoed Jack flatly.

"He was shocked by Gwen's appearance and forgot he couldn't feel what he was doing." Ianto twisted his hand free and peered at the marks without much interest. "It wasn't on purpose, even though I _had_ just proven my superior linguistic skills."

The knot in Jack's chest released abruptly and he gladly buried his worry as quickly and deeply as he could, catching Ianto's hand again and bringing the bruised skin to his lips. "Sorry."

Ianto looked at him in bemusement. "Why? It was an accident. Plus you weren't even there."

"Not about that. Just now, I was trying to leave without waking you."

"Well you did a poor job, crashing around and filling the place with the smell of coffee."

Jack licked one finger-shaped bruise and ignored the petulant response. "I was afraid if I woke you, you'd be too tempting to resist."

The Welshman's half-hearted struggle stopped as he lifted his eyebrows at his lover. "Oh," he murmured. "Oh dear."

"Yes," Jack agreed, dipping his head. "Oh dear." He brushed his lips over Ianto's, pressure tantalisingly light, causing the other man to lean up with a huff of frustration. Jack slipped his hand behind Ianto's neck, grasping his hair and keeping him from getting any closer. He continued to tease with faint touches, drawing back a couple of times to look down at parted lips and narrowed eyes.

"You mustn't be in a hurry to get away," Ianto observed blithely and Jack growled, silencing him with a kiss so forceful he was hard-pressed to keep up.

The Captain climbed fully onto the bed, straddling Ianto and confining him within the creased sheet. Ianto squirmed, unable to move far, but one arm at least was free and he clutched at Jack's shoulder, pulling him down into another embrace.

Jack nipped at Ianto's lips, making them redden and swell, though he had to pause to smile when impatient noises began to slip from between them. "Keen," he observed, voice thick with lust, as he reached down to the growing bump in the sheet. The fingers gripping his shoulder squeezed in approval when he began to rub insistent circles over the hidden flesh.

"Your fault," Ianto grunted. "You shouldn't have woken me."

"I told you, it wasn't intentional."

"I don't believe yo-" he broke off with a gasp as Jack squeezed his erection through the covers. His hips gave a primal jerk upwards, only to be thwarted by the bed sheet stretched tight beneath Jack's knees.

"Doesn't matter what you believe," the Captain said. He rubbed Ianto's cock harder, unfastening his trousers with his free hand and releasing the pressure against his own arousal. Ianto's lips quivered with each gasping breath and Jack gave them a swipe of his tongue, reminding the younger man of what better things they could be doing. The light touch was met with great enthusiasm and Ianto latched onto Jack's mouth as though he would expire without the kiss.

They battled for control, Ianto's one free hand jumping to Jack's head and twisting tightly into his hair. In response Jack withdrew his own hand and dropped forward onto his elbows, body aligning entirely with Ianto's and their enclosed erections pushing together. A groan passed between their joined lips, its origin unclear, and they began to rock against each other, falling into sync without any effort at all.

The friction was both delicious and elusive, the material separating them sliding and bunching, preventing sufficient contact for any kind of completion. Ianto's fingers dug hard into Jack's scalp, his demand for more clear, and though the temptation to continue teasing them both was great, in the back of Jack's mind remained the solemn desire to return to the Hub as soon as possible.

Or at least as soon as he'd finished what Ianto had accidentally started.

Rearing up suddenly, Jack whipped aside the sheet in a single swift and eager motion, shifting his legs to fully cast it from the bed before returning to loom over Ianto. The exposed man lay still in surprise, the hand that had been in Jack's hair now grasping nothing but thin air and his lips still rounded from the broken kiss. He blinked up dumbly for a moment, before his eyes darted over the bare chest and gaping trousers of the man sitting on his thighs.

Jack smirked as Ianto began to twist once more, his need heightened simply by looking at the Captain, but when the tip of Ianto's pink tongue darted out to wet his lips, Jack's narcissism was instantly forgotten.

"What do you want?" he asked, reaching down to his trousers again and slowly peeling them further open. The outline of his cock was revealed, trapped in material that seemed far too thin to contain such heat for much longer. Ianto's eyes obediently followed his hand and Jack drew a finger along the line of his solid shaft. "Is it this?"

A faint tremor ran through his lover and the Captain laughed. "I'll take that as a yes." He hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his underwear and pulled it away from himself, easing it down and over his erection. The expression of hunger on Ianto's face and the engorged flesh bobbing so close to his own caused Jack's pulse to climb even higher and he rolled his hips forward to press his cock against Ianto's.

The friction was even less now, damp skin sliding together with too much ease, and Jack wrapped one hand around them both, breath catching in his own throat as he squeezed.

"Ah!" gasped Ianto. "Jack!" He tried to thrust up into the confines of the older man's strong fingers but his effort was again arrested by Jack's weight on his thighs. "AH!"

The obscene noises coming from Ianto made Jack grin, though his teeth were gritted from his own pleasure. His hand moved with fast forceful strokes whilst he stared down at Ianto's face; it was rare to see the young man so unguarded and Jack did not want to miss this exceptional opportunity.

Ianto, his eyes screwed shut, reached out blindly for Jack, one hand settling on the bicep of his pumping arm, and the other snagging the free hand that was mapping the contours of the Welshman's bound chest. He pulled the rough fingers away from playing with one of his nipples and instead took them inside his mouth, tongue tracing spirals of wet heat about each digit.

Jack gave a grunt of torment, conflicted by the silent indication of what the other man wanted. To indulge them both in such a way would take time and the Captain had already broken the promise he'd made himself to be back at the Hub first thing that morning. He licked his lips, feeling his determination sway as Ianto writhed against him, and increased the movement of his hand, tugging at the flesh caught within his sweat-slick palm.

"Ngh-!" Ianto cried and Jack pulled his fingers out of his mouth, using them instead to balance as he leaned further over his lover.

"What?" he asked, voice husky but steady. "No? Do you want me to stop?" He clenched his fist tighter, letting the Welshman know that wasn't truly an option now.

Ianto shook his head frantically, pushing it into the pillow and unwittingly exposing his throat as he arched his back. "Inside...me..." he said and Jack swallowed hard, once again almost convinced by the other's behaviour.

Yet he remained strong and resisted, distracting himself instead by attacking the long pale line of Ianto's neck. He dragged his tongue over the short stubble about Ianto's chin, before biting playfully at the flesh there, marking it for all to see. Through his lips he could feel the racing of the younger man's pulse and he swore that he would indulge Ianto for as long as possible when next they had the time.

"Later," he promised into Ianto's neck. "I want to see us come together." With that he brought his free hand down to join the other, wrapping both of their cocks entirely in the heat of his fingers, and pulling his head away to watch.

Ianto's eyes snapped open when Jack leaned back, and he lifted his head to follow Jack's gaze. The simple action sent a jolt of electricity through Jack's body, the weight of Ianto's eyes on their engorged flesh so intense, so impossibly physical, that Jack shuddered into orgasm, surprise ripping a loud moan from his lips.

He rocked hard into his hands, squeezing Ianto's cock against his own and forcing more pleasure from the moment, watching all the while as his seed pulsed over his lover's chest. The younger man cried out mere heartbeats later, shaft hardening even further as he came just as forcefully, his fingers curling tightly into Jack's forearms.

Calm gradually fell over the room, a thick hush filled only with laboured breathing whilst both men regained their senses. Jack still sat over Ianto's legs but he relinquished his grasp upon their tender flesh to hold himself up, examining Ianto's flushed face as he came down from his high.

"You can't refuse that shower now," Ianto exclaimed after a few minutes, still sounding slightly breathless.

Jack's lips quirked up into a lazy smile. "Maybe." Unwillingly, he climbed off his lover and onto his feet, taking in Ianto's naked form spread out across the bed and wondering how he could've thought it possible to creep away from that. "You could certainly do with one."

Ianto blinked heavy eyes and tilted his head to look down at his chest. "Hmm." His gaze shifted to Jack, peering up through his eyelashes as he held out a hand. "Maybe," he echoed.

The Captain laughed as he grabbed the extended hand and pulled his lover up from the bed and into the bathroom.

* * *

Gwen closed her eyes, bending her back and groaning loudly. "Oh God, that feels good."

A light chuckle brushed past her ear and Rhys began to move his hand faster. "You can't imagine how much I missed you," he told her, voice low and intent.

"Me too," Gwen agreed. She rolled her shoulders and dropped her head forward with another exclamation of pleasure.

Rhys abruptly stopped his ministrations and protested, "You weren't even awake!"

"I was trying to be romantic!" She twisted around to flutter her eyelashes at him. "Keep going."

Rhys gave a dramatic sigh and resumed rubbing at the rough skin between her shoulder blades. "I need to buy you a back scratcher before my fingers are worn down to the bone."

Gwen shivered happily, the persistent itch fading beneath Rhys' touch. It had been bothering her for hours but it was only after failing to squirm discretely that Rhys had finally made her admit her discomfort. She hadn't wanted to draw attention to it, knowing that her fiancé would automatically offer to scratch her back, just as he used to do when things were normal.

Not that she hadn't _wanted _him to do it, she'd simply been ashamed to have him touch her unsightly rough skin. She knew it was probably foolish of her to think Rhys would be disgusted by the change in her appearance, especially a change completely beyond her control, but that didn't stop her from hesitating to bring up the subject.

Another few blissful minutes passed in silence, then Rhys' voice broke through her bubble of pleasure. "You're going to have to make some calls."

"Eh?" she responded stupidly, leaning slightly to the side to redirect Rhys' scratching. "Calls?"

"Yeah, you need to reassure some people that I didn't kill you and chuck your body into the sea."

Gwen's features twisted into a bewildered frown and she turned to look at him, forgetting all about the itch. "Say again?"

Rhys took the opportunity to move from the edge of the bed back to the chair beside it, stretching the kinks out of his own back as he went. "Do you know how hard it was to make up excuses every time someone called for you? It was okay to start with, I just told them you had chronic laryngitis, but then they wanted to come and _see_ you instead." He grimaced and Gwen's heart ached to think that he'd been forced to hide her absence, knowing there was a chance she wouldn't get better at all.

"Oh love," she murmured, laying one discoloured hand on his arm. "I'm so sorry."

But Rhys shook his head and took hold of her hand between his own. "It's not your fault. All that matters is you're awake now and the others know how to fix you."

He lifted her palm to his mouth and kissed the dry skin, making Gwen smile softly at him. She couldn't really feel the touch of his lipsthere, but just seeing him make the gesture, despite her horrid appearance, was enough to make her marvel at her luck in being loved by this man. Her gaze dropped to their entwined hands, looking automatically for her engagement ring, but her finger was bare. Panic swept over her. "My ring!" she gasped, eyes widening in horror.

Rhys merely laughed and squeezed her hand. "It's at home, don't worry. I'll bring it in next time."

Gwen blew out a big breath. "Thank God." She wiggled her fingers, frowning at the scaly grey digits. "You'd better hang onto it though, I'm not sure it'd fit anymore." Her scowl deepened even further as thoughts of the ring led naturally onto the wedding she'd been so busy organising when the virus had infected her. Disappointment hit her without warning and she sighed heavily before she could stop herself.

"It'll be okay, Gwen," Rhys murmured, squeezing the hand he still held in his own. He gave her a grin so loving that it set her heart fluttering and she couldn't help but feel reassured.

She smiled, tension lifting from her shoulders. "I love you so much," she told him. "I wish we could get married right now."

"I have no problem with that," Rhys replied with a shrug, "but could you imagine your mum's reaction? Or worse, _mine_." He shuddered dramatically. "We wouldn't live to see our first anniversary."

Gwen laughed. Rhys wasn't even close to exaggerating, but that didn't stop her from considering the idea that they marry and just not tell anyone. Then a few months down the line, when she might actuallybe fit to get dolled up in a wedding dress, they could just pretend it was all new to them. "Maybe we could-"

Rhys stopped her dead with a look and she pouted at him, then smiled to make sure he knew she agreed – if grudgingly – with him. He smiled back, though it morphed abruptly into a huge yawn. "Sorry," he said, right before the second yawn hit.

Gwen laughed and she shuffled across to the far side of the bed. "Come on," she said, patting the covers. "Lie down for a bit."

* * *

The face in the mirror was unquestionably her own. It might have been a little thinner than usual, and definitely paler, but it remained the same one Gwen had seen reflected back at her throughout her entire adult life.

She tilted the compact slightly, directing it towards her neck, where the skin faded into dry grey 'scales'. It was probably incredibly vain of her, but Gwen couldn't help but feel relieved that her face was untouched by the strange affliction. At the very least she could cover most of her body, and with her face clear she could probably get away with walking around unnoticed outside.

So long as they were absolutely sure it wasn't contagious, she thought.

Gwen's wrist fell slack at the gloomy thought, dropping the view in the mirror to the neckline of the loose t-shirt she wore. She bit her lip, glanced at Rhys snoring quietly at her side, then tugged the collar out, dropping her head to peer down at her chest.

An involuntary squeak escaped Gwen's lips when she caught sight of tar_-_black nipples upon grey breasts and she slapped the material back to her chest in shock.

A moment later, she shook her head at her own reaction, asking herself what else she had expected. "Bloody hell," she muttered, before moving her examination onto the rather safer territory of her arms. She stroked over the rough skin, awed by the way the scales shifted ever so slightly beneath her touch.

Even more bewildering perhaps was the way her fingers themselves had changed_._ The skin on her fingertips appeared thicker, tougher, and though she could still feel what she touched, the way it registered in her mind was different to what she remembered from before.

Gwen suddenly became aware of the feeling of being watched and she looked up, almost yelping to find that Jack was standing in front of the closed door, apparently having entered in perfect silence. "Gah!" she squealed. "You scared the life out of me! Don't just appear like that!"

Jack gave her a crooked grin and took a step further into the room. "Sorry, I didn't want to disturb your, uh, _self-inspection_."

Gwen flushed at being caught, then narrowed her eyes at him and said primly, "What I do in the privacy of my room is my _own _business," before sticking out her tongue and entirely ruining the effect. Jack laughed and she smiled in return, tilting her head as she examined him.

There seemed something different about the immortal Captain. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, he looked exactly the same as he always did, but – and she hesitated even to think this to herself – but there was something akin to a _glow_ about him. A halo of light that surrounded his body...

Gwen shook her head abruptly. She wasn't sure, but she suspected her eyes had been affected by the virus as well as her skin. She kept seeing shadows and lights in corners where there shouldn't be any, and now, apparently, around people as well. She was, however, more than willing to believe it was all due to the medication Owen had her on, considering the vast number of pills and IV lines she'd received since waking up.

"What's the matter?" Jack asked as she rubbed her eyes.

"Nothing," she lied weakly, furious at the illness for compromising her senses. "Just tired." If she started admitting to seeing things, Gwen knew Owen would be even less eager to let her leave the bed any time soon and she desperately wanted to be up and about so she could be of some use again. Also she was near homicidal with the need to have a bath and spend a night in her own bed, but that was by the by...

She glanced up, concerned Jack would think her comment about fatigue a way to get rid of him. "What's up?" she asked, noticing the softening of his gaze upon her.

"Nothing," he said. He gave her his patented grin once again. "Just checking in. Anything you need?"

Gwen looked around the room, currently a mix of medical props, trashy magazines, and grapes. She had no idea _where_ the grapes had come from (though Ianto remained her top suspect) and was frankly rather impressed by their presence at her side considering she'd only been removed from stasis the day before. "Not really," she answered. "Though I am getting bored of reading celebrity gossip. Maybe you could ask Tosh or Ianto if they have any books they can lend me?"

Jack arched an eyebrow at her. "You know _I _have books here, right?"

She hesitated, having neither known nor considered that. It wasn't exactly something she associated with the Captain. "Uh, yes?"

"Thanks," he said dryly_._

"Well, sorry, but I never see you reading so..."

"Probably because I mostly read at night. It's great for passing the time, you know."

Gwen bit her lip, not from guilt but from the familiar ache in her heart that emerged every time she was reminded of Jack's situation. Though she could never forget the fact of his immortality, the very scope of it was not always at the forefront of her mind. "Sorry," she said again, before forcing another grin upon her face. "Okay then, pick out a book for me."

"One trashy period novel coming up," declared Jack, rubbing his hands together and moving to leave.

"Wait, Jack," Gwen called out. "I need you to ask you something."

He glanced back at her curiously. "What's that?"

"Why did you ignore my wishes?"

Jack pulled a face, making it clear he knew exactly what Gwen was talking about. She waited, wondering if he'd try to laugh it off or lie to her. "Gwen," he sighed, shoulders visibly slumping as he reluctantly turned away from the door to face her. "I just couldn't let you throw away your life like that."

She blinked, actually surprised by the frank answer. It was what she'd hoped for, of course, but hadn't expected to receive it quite so easily. "You didn't know your Doctor would be able to do anything," she said. "And you certainly didn't know the virus would stop killing me on its own. Why were you so sure?"

"I knew it wasn't your time."

"Don't try that with me, Jack. I'm not so eager to believe in unconditional miracles." She shook her head. "Nor are you. So why did you do it? You know the reason I put that into my record."

He nodded solemnly and Gwen felt a brief thrill of victory over him, but it was quickly replaced by a shudder as she recalled herself why she hadn't wanted to be frozen alive.

"I know," the Captain was saying. "But it wouldn't have come to that." He attempted a grin. "After all, we're completely out of resurrection gauntlets."

Gwen frowned at him, confused by his words for a moment before she realised what he was trying to say. "No," she said in disbelief. "That isn't it at all. I mean, I don't think I could cope if I were in Owen's shoes, but that is _not _what I stipulated in my record. I specifically said no cryo."

She gave another shiver, disturbed by the thought of being trapped in the tiny drawer, frozen for an interval beyond her control... Others might not fear the risk of being awoken in the distant future, but she simply couldn't comprehend closing her eyes one day and waking up the next to discover that everyone she knew had died in between.

She'd seen it happen to Tommy Brockless and she certainly didn't want it to happen to her, which was why, the very day after he'd been sent back in time to his death, she'd changed the medical parameters in her personnel file and slept soundly that night for the serenity it brought.

Jack seemed lost for words, his jaw working though his lips were firmly pressed together.

"You didn't think about it, did you?" Gwen said. "Did you ask anyone? Did you ask my _fiancé's _permission? God, did you even tell him those were my wishes?"

"Gwen..."

"What, Jack? Are you going to try and convince me you _knew_ everything would work out this way?" She sighed, disappointed but mostly conflicted. It wasn't as though she could deny her relief that her life was no longer at risk, but the reasons for Jack's disregard of her request troubled her.

It also gave her one more example of how she'd made the right decision back at the beginning of the year: accepting Rhys' proposal and rejecting once and for all the formless attraction she'd been holding for the immortal Captain all this time.

A sudden peace settled over her, the trace of anger she'd been harbouring vanishing in light of the new distance between herself and Jack. He had made a mistake, a poor judgement, but the core of her heart was shut to him now and he couldn't hurt her there anymore.

She rolled her eyes and smiled, drawing a wary look from the usually self-assured Captain. "Well it's done now, and there's no changing it. I'm going to forgive you, Jack, but if you turn me into an icicle again I'm going to hit you _so_ hard." She made a fist with her rough fingers and shook it at him in demonstration.

The change in her demeanour clearly took Jack by surprise, but it seemed a few lifetimes of experience had taught him to roll with certain punches, and he lifted his hands into a pose of surrender, a smile spreading cautiously across his lips. "Understood," he said. "And I am sorry_. _But only because I didn't understand." He gave her a full grin then, dropping his hands and shrugging instead. "I'm _not_ sorry for not letting you die."

"Uhn," Gwen groaned. "You're impossible. I don't know how we put up with you."

Much to her surprise, he didn't respond to that with the expected quip; in fact it seemed his expression hardened and the fuzzy halo around him darkened a fraction. Gwen rubbed her eyes again and tried not to think about how she'd apparently accepted the presence of the glow about Jack's body.

"How about I go get that book for you?" Jack offered abruptly, taking a big step back to the door.

But his fixed grin disturbed Gwen so much that she found herself stopping him again. "Do you want to tell me what's going on?"

The Captain paused with his fingers around the door handle. "Uh, I don't know. What's going on?"

"Something's wrong."

"Is it?" he asked. "I thought we'd just-"

"No, not that. I can tell there's a problem." Gwen squinted at him, hesitant to explain _how_ she could tell. "You seem...different."

"I do?" Jack looked down at himself. "More handsome?"

Gwen rolled her eyes again. "The others are acting strangely as well. I thought it was because they felt funny being around me like this, but now I think there's something else going on that no one's been considerate enough to tell me about."

"Ah," the immortal replied. He glanced away for a moment, his brief return to bravado faltering before her scrutiny. "It's not a matter of being considerate."

Gwen snorted dubiously. "Well that's good to know."

"Honestly, it's not like that. It's just..." He trailed off into silence, then sighed loudly. "Okay," he began again, moving closer to the bed. "In short. When the Doctor turned up, there was another alien hitching a ride on the side of his ship. It attacked Ianto and stabbed a nice big hole through his chest-"

"Oh my god!" Gwen gasped over his words, one hand darting to her mouth. "But he..." she trailed off, confused as she thought back to seeing Ianto upon waking the day before. It hadn't seemed that he'd been sporting such a terrible injury, though she was willing to admit she hadn't exactly been studying each of her friends closely at that time.

"He's fine," Jack assured her. "Our very talented doctor managed to patch him up again. I mean Owen, obviously. Not 'the' Doctor. I've no idea what he's like at sewing but I can't imagine he's better than Tosh_._"

Gwen blinked up at him, the influx of words taking a moment to unravel in her mind. "You're babbling."

Jack laughed. "I never babble. You must be mistaken."

"Uh huh. What else?"

"Eh?"

_You really are pushing it_, Gwen thought at him. "There's more, I can tell. You said it yourself, you never babble."

Jack considered her for a long moment, then moved back to the bed. He perched facing her on the edge, glancing across at Rhys sleeping on the other side. "Did you acquire telepathy along with those pretty scales?"

"Shut up," Gwen said with a grimace. "I can tell when you're not giving me the whole story, so spill."

"Okay, okay, I give in." Jack grinned, resistance melting away. "We don't know all the details, and Owen's been running tests like a mad man, but it seems the alien barb that went through Ianto's chest had some kind of unusual effect on him." He paused, expression becoming more solemn. "The Doctor thinks it was a reaction to lingering radiation in his body from his trip through the Rift. The barb is designed to paralyse, but it didn't do that to Ianto. It numbed my hand when I touched it, but _he_ could still feel everything."

"Ouch," Gwen breathed.

"Yeah, but as I said, the wound's all stitched up and Owen's got him on the good painkillers, so he'll be fine."

"So that was the unusual effect?" Gwen asked, still unsure he was being completely frank with her. Something about the shift of light in her vision felt wrong, making her feel physically uncomfortable_._

"Ah, no. Not quite." He gave a lopsided grin that made her blink frantically against a sudden flare of radiance. "It seems Ianto's body has stopped aging."

Preoccupied by her deceiving eyes, it took a moment for her to respond. "Huh?"

"Exactly."

"He's stopped _aging_?"

"That's what Owen said. Quite a few times, actually."

"I don't understand."

"We don't really either, hence Owen's plethora of tests. But the Doctor is pretty sure about it."

Gwen shook her head. "So...he's going to look that way for the rest of his life? Wow." She glanced down at her own arm. "Lucky him."

Jack didn't respond to that, letting her absorb the news for a moment. She could feel him watching the development of her reaction, until she looked back up with concern in her eyes. "How's he taking it?"

Something akin to approval flashed within the Captain's bright eyes, but his responding shrug was casual. "It's Ianto. To be honest, I don't think it's weighing heavily on his mind."

Gwen smiled fondly, unable to find fault in his assumption. "I can see that." Then the smile faded away as she added, "But I wouldn't bet on it lasting."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, what's he said about it?"

"The aging thing?" Jack thought for a moment. "Not much. I think he needs more evidence to truly accept it. Even then, I can't imagine him obsessing over it much."

Gwen nodded, though it was not through direct agreement with the Captain's words. "Most people would be thrilled by the idea of looking so young for the rest of their lives," she said. She certainly knew how she would feel if it were her in that situation. "But this is Ianto."

She could see the hesitation in Jack's mind, the way his eyes bore into hers, seeking the meaning behind her words. Although it appeared clear to her, she knew certain details were often lost to him – and sometimes, to be fair, the others in the team as well.

"He's not most people," Jack murmured. Gwen nodded again, pleased he seemed to following her train of thought. "Do you think he'll have a problem with it?" the Captain went on, uncertainty crinkling his brow.

"Do you?" When she received only a questioning look in response, Gwen went on to offer an example. "Most people would also jump at the chance of being immortal-"

Realisation seemed to hit Jack like a physical blow and he reeled away from her, turning the unplanned motion into a clumsy dismount from the edge of her bed.

Staring at his back as he stood motionless in thought, Gwen wondered what precise form his epiphany had taken. He hadn't recognised the fear that had driven her refusal of cryogenic freezing, and clearly he had been just as blind to Ianto's fear, so would he make the connection now? She hoped so, but something kept her from simply assuming he'd realised what she was trying to say.

"Jack?" she prompted, sitting up a little straighter. She hesitated before saying anything else, unsure if she should spell everything out for him. The immediate answer that sprung to her mind was a negative: after all, she didn't have the entire story and she certainly hadn't seen enough of Ianto to make her own judgement of his emotional state.

"Have you seen the Doctor recently?" he asked.

"Uh," Gwen replied, caught off guard. "Not since last night. He's probably with Owen though."

Jack gave a nod, then took a step towards the door.

"Jack, wait." He paused but didn't turn back. "I don't think Ianto..."

The Captain shook his head and lifted a hand to stop her. "It's okay, Gwen, I get it now. It makes perfect sense in hindsight. He's simply afraid of being like me."

She hadn't expected him to say that – it certainly hadn't been her guess at Ianto's feelings on the matter – and as a result Jack was able to disappear into the hallway before she could raise any kind of protest.

Gwen bit her lip, torn between the urge to speak her mind and the knowledge that she simply didn't know enough about the situation to get involved. She sometimes felt that she would never work out Ianto, he was almost as much of a mystery as Jack himself, and if she started making declarations about his feelings, chances were she'd cause more trouble than not. There was also the distinct possibility that she would end up channelling her own personal views, putting herself in his shoes and assuming he'd behave the same way, which she knew was entirely unlikely.

And yet, letting Jack leave with such a disturbing notion on his mind seemed just as unfair as putting words into Ianto's mouth and Gwen threw back the covers, intending to chase after him; if only to tell him that she didn't believe Ianto's fear had anything to do with being like Jack.

She was stopped by an arm slipping about her waist and she looked down in surprise to find Rhys holding her in place. "Stay."

"I need to talk to Jack," she explained, trying to dislodge his arm and failing.

"Leave it be," Rhys told her. "It isn't your problem to solve."

"What?" she spluttered. "Did you hear?" He nodded, but she was already speaking again. "That's why I need to-"

"You _need_ to rest."

"But-"

"Gwen, I'm serious. They can sort it out themselves." Rhys tightened his grip, pulling her closer to wrap his other arm behind her. "It's probably better if they do."

She began to wilt beneath his reassuring touch, though she put up a token resistance, purely out of habit. "I think I made things worse."

"I think they did that all by themselves."

Gwen drew in a deep breath, tentatively admitting to herself that her fiancé could be right. And beyond that, sinking into Rhys' arms was suddenly so very alluring. She yawned, realising for the first time that she hadn't slept since being awoken the day before; there had been so much to take in, so many changes and events, even beyond those that concerned her directly.

It probably wouldn't be such a bad thing to give Jack the chance to realise for himself how wrong his guess had been. Plus she could fix everything later if necessary, she decided, just as the warmth of Rhys' body pulled her down into a deep, _natural_, slumber.


	14. Chapter 13

A/N: Don't you wish Ten and Ianto had met properly in canon? They would've had the best conversations! Sigh :(

* * *

There was no doubt about it, Ianto decided, the alien slugs were definitely acting strange.

He frowned and corrected himself. Not slugs: Kalkerifeenians. Which was a shame really, because he hadn't yet thought up his own name for them. In the reports he'd been calling them Extraterrestrial Gastropods (or ETGs, which sounded much snappier) but he was sure there was an even better name to be found. Unfortunately that little mental distraction had been scuppered by the Doctor's arrival and instead of christening them something clever, all he could do now was go back through the records and update their true designation.

Pouting, Ianto tapped on the tank directly over the 'foot' of one of the creatures, making the alien's body ripple slightly at the noise. He stepped to the side, rounding one of the reinforced corners, and watched whilst the aliens, all of which had been clustered together on that one wall, hurried to slide around after him.

It was a toss-up between being flattered that they were following him and worried that they were _following_ him. The fact they were moving with far more vigour than ever before was rather lost beneath the development that they were clearly aware of Ianto's presence. The Doctor had confirmed they were consuming something far more intangible than salad leaves (being the faint leak of temporal radiation from the Rift) so Ianto knew their attention wasn't because they associated him with food.

There were few other explanations, but Ianto suspected it had something to do with the Doctor's arrival. It seemed likely that the disruption of the Time Vortex had stirred them up, filling them with energy and interest in their surroundings. It was certainly more preferable than thinking they'd taken a shine to him, Ianto decided, and jotted down a few notes concerning his idea on his clipboard.

There was no reason for him to stay any longer, having completed his routine check on the aliens, but he lingered regardless, enjoying the quiet and solitude of the old subterranean chamber. The last two days had been extremely..._eventful_...and the peace in the vaults was a welcome relief to the near perpetual worry and confusion. Even the night before, going out with Jack and sleeping in his own bed, had been fraught with tension, instead of the relaxing break for which he'd hoped.

His mind obligingly drifted back a few hours, to the packed bar they'd visited for a drink. Jack had been right to guess that particular venue had been chosen for the lack of privacy and considerable noise. Ianto _had_ wanted to avoid the conversation he knew Jack would push to start whether Ianto was mentally prepared for it or not. Which he wasn't.

It had probably been a bit of a low trick to deflect Jack with talk of the Tarot reading, but, conversely, he truly had only recognised for the first time how the little girl's predictions could fit into recent events. Just as he'd explained to Jack, the mystery surrounding fortune-telling was far more troubling to him than the idea of being able to predict the future. There were plenty of ways to calculate the outcome of various circumstances, and undoubtedly people existed who could make those sums without any visible effort, but dressing it all up in jewels and incense made it seem cheap and tawdry.

Ianto smiled faintly at his own thoughts, wondering if he were trying to convince himself it was okay to indulge in a little optimism. It surely wasn't so bad to hope that the girl was right and Gwen would be healed because of the Doctor. Although, if he really laid his faith in that prediction, it _did_ present an issue concerning the rest of the reading; specifically the matter of Ianto's own problems.

The cards had apparently spoken of his quest for something in the wrong place. Ianto knew 'something' could only mean that which had dominated his life up to that moment – his fascination with pain – and the wrong place was undoubtedly the professional he'd hired to help him explore the subject. Thanks to Jack's interference, Ianto had found the right place to look; that could hardly be disputed when his encounters with Jack were so much more intense and satisfying than they'd ever been with Alex.

The only unanswered question was _precisely_ what he sought. It lingered at the edge of his mind, danced on the tip of his tongue, and darted away whenever he tried to look directly at it. As a result he hadn't been thinking about it at all, right up to the moment he'd decided the Doctor was the Magician. Now it was yet another weight on his already crowded shoulders.

Because it had been decided that Lurrelia was the most likely culprit behind the booby-trapped message pod, Ianto had been reminded once again of everything that'd happened to him at her hands. More than that, however, he'd been forced to revisit the concerns about his unnatural desires that had been lurking in the shadows of his psyche for the past few months.

So much had changed that Ianto couldn't help but wonder at the cause of those transformations, and whether they were truly his own doing. The root of the problem lay in the fact that he couldn't remember precisely what had happened during his unintentional trip through the Rift. Of course he hadn't known what to expect when he'd leapt recklessly through the portal Lurrelia had created, but he could never have imagined what he'd found there. The sheer overwhelming nature of having each and every one of his senses abused and overloaded had almost entirely robbed him of any memory of what he'd done. He could recall occasional flashes, feelings of intense cold and strange metallic smells, but everything else was lost in the confusion of light and noise and an intense pressure surrounding his body. Most of the time Ianto was glad for that (it wasn't exactly something he wanted to relive, even if only in his mind) but not knowing the truth troubled the young man greatly when he began to think too hard about his situation.

If he could be sure, for example, that Lurrelia was definitely dead – that the blood which had covered his hands upon his return had really been hers – then he might not feel such concern that she was still a threat to him. As it was, discovering she was responsible for the virus Gwen had contracted merely added fuel to that fear, no matter that all signs indicated the infected pod had been sent before Lurrelia had travelled to Earth herself. He supposed it was because she'd been in his head, so deep a part of his mind that he couldn't tell who was directing his limbs or saying the words that left his mouth. Things had happened without him knowing who was responsible, leaving him unable to be completely sure what he would've done in those circumstances had he _not_ been under the control of an alien.

He was especially conflicted over his encouragement for Jack to continue embracing him, when that touch brought about an agony way out of proportion to the injuries from which he'd been suffering at the time. Ianto may well have been able to set aside all of the confusion of that time, transferring the blame to Lurrelia's influence and getting on with his life, had it not been for that lingering fascination with pain.

What had started as an accident, combining the throb of his injuries, the false ache Lurrelia had planted in his head, and the pleasure of Jack's ministrations, had progressed into an obsession of sorts; a sensation unlike anything he'd ever experienced before and simply could not banish from his mind. Even though he'd first approached this new interest to vent his fears about lacking self-control, when Jack had elbowed his way into the process, it had swiftly become an entirely different entity, a trait so incredibly unlike Ianto's previous character that he was terrified it meant his mind was still not his own.

What if, instead of dying wherever the Rift had taken them, Lurrelia had abandoned her stolen body and hopped back into Ianto's? Could he really trust that anything he'd done since then was at his own volition?

Or was he simply looking for a way to excuse his descent into the perversions that had consumed him entirely, body and mind?

The atmosphere in the room changed suddenly, something shifting in the air around Ianto and causing him to pause in his dour contemplations. His brain attempted to catalogue the feeling, as it did with all new sensations, and ended up offering the comparison of a breeze forming around him, flowing towards some distant point, yet the air wasn't moving. It was rather more an illusion of everything in the room, living and inanimate objects alike, turning their attention to one single thing.

Ianto automatically thought of Jack, having felt a similar physical draw to the Captain numerous times in the past, however when he turned away from the glass tank, it was not his lover standing in the doorway, but the Doctor instead.

Staring at the newcomer, his eyes unknowingly wide, Ianto witnessed for the first time the pull the Time Lord exerted on the world around him. It was a wonder he hadn't noticed before just how powerful the allure of the alien's incredible knowledge and ability was; alike and yet so distinct from Jack's personal magnetism.

The Doctor cocked an eyebrow at him, head tilting slightly as though he suspected, but wasn't quite sure, why Ianto was gawking at him. "Hullo," he said, the word elongating into more of a question than a greeting and Ianto's awareness snapped abruptly back into his body.

He blinked, straightening his back to regain the appearance of control and smoothing over the expression upon his face. "Hello," he replied, just as carefully, watching as the Doctor stuck his hands in his pockets and wandered further into the chamber.

The pull hadn't gone away, but it was muted now, as though Ianto's mind had adjusted to keep from being so distracted. Had it always been there? He frowned and thought back to his previous encounters with the Time Lord: they were few and far between, for a variety of reasons, but he was sure he hadn't ended up slack-jawed like that before. Perhaps it was because they were alone, away from all the commotion of recent events, that he'd been able to recognise its presence...or, Ianto admitted, maybe he was simply imaging things. The stress of the past couple of days might finally have gotten to him, even though he'd thought everything was under control.

He shook his head minutely, banishing the unanswerable thoughts, and instead reached for a problem that he could easily solve. "Is there something you need? Something I can get for you?"

"Need?" the Doctor echoed, considering the question carefully. "Need," he said again, rolling the word around his mouth as though tasting it. He bent to peer into the tank. "Nope! No needs for me! How about you?"

Ianto swallowed, confused. "Uh, no. No, I'm fine. Thank you."

"You don't have any more questions about them then?"

Again confusion reigned, and also a sliver of fear; that intrinsic paranoia of being around someone who was so very superior to himself. "Them?" Ianto echoed.

The Doctor glanced up, perhaps recognising the wariness in the young human's voice. "Them," he said, nodding towards the tank.

"The Kalkerifeenians?" Ianto asked unnecessarily. "Oh." His mind struggled to right itself. What had he been expecting the other man to say? "I'm not sure."

"Well, when we move them to the TARDIS I can show you what the old girl has on them. I can't give you a physical copy of course, but I'm sure your memory is more than sufficient to pick up a few of the important details." The Time Lord tapped on the glass, just as Ianto had done earlier, and the nearest creature squirmed in response.

As alluring as that offer sounded, Ianto's loyalty to Jack overwhelmed all thought of getting access to the database on the Doctor's ship. "Jack wants them kept here, in case we need a live sample."

"A _live_ sample?"

Ianto kept silent, merely lifting his eyebrows in confirmation to avoid falling into the same echoing trap Owen had triggered the day before.

"Huh," the Doctor said. "Well I don't know what he thinks he needs any kind of sample for, live or otherwise. Not now he knows about..." he trailed off and wiggled his fingers at Ianto instead of finishing the sentence. "Knowing Jack, he's probably got a crush on one of these little fellas," he went on, tapping the tank again and making the same alien twist upon the glass. "This one, if he has any taste. You're going to grow up to be a great little breeder, aren't you? Yes, you are!"

One of Ianto's eyebrows went up again as the Doctor addressed the creature in what sounded suspiciously like baby-talk. "They're not going to start multiplying, are they?" he asked, deciding not to respond to the suggestion that his lover was attracted to a slug.

"No, no, you're fine, they're all male and I'd wager the closest female is the one that attacked you. Unless one of these guys is already gestating...no, he'd be showing by now. They get quite rotund before the grubs eat their way out you see."

"The males carry the offspring?" Ianto frowned and then added, "They _eat_ their way out?"

"Oh yes! The males who become breeders have this little pouch in their underside, nice and cosy and slimy, and the eggs get transferred into it from the female after fertilization. Then once the offspring have developed sufficiently, they emerge, making sure to have a proper meal before setting out into the big wide wor-, uh, universe."

Ianto felt his stomach clench in sympathy and he eyed the aliens warily, hoping – and it was one of the more bizarre hopes he'd ever had – that none of the creatures had gotten up to any slug-style shenanigans before falling through the Rift into Cardiff. Typically his curious mind then questioned what slug-style would _be_ precisely and began riffling through his knowledge of mating habits in the animal kingdom to find out. Hadn't he read once that slugs engaged in intercourse twisted around each other...?

"Kind of you to offer," the Doctor declared suddenly and Ianto turned a very nearly horrified look on the Time Lord.

"Sorry?" he squeaked. He hadn't been thinking about slug sex out loud, had he?

"To help me. Very kind of you." He grinned at Ianto. "It's always nice to find someone able to remember their manners when tensions are high. Politeness is the most important thing in life, I've always said."

Ianto deflated in relief. "Oh, really?"

"Yes, well, maybe not. I think I alluded to it once but I don't know if the Helsern Tax Collector got the hint. He was trying to disembowel me with a shoe horn at the time and probably didn't make the connection."

"Human or alien shoe horn?" Ianto found himself asking.

"What, you don't think aliens have trouble getting their shoes on as well?"

"I can't say it has ever even come close to crossing my mind," Ianto admitted. "What happens to the non-breeder males?" he asked.

The Doctor was caught out by the sudden shift in the conversation, apparently not accustomed to having his own habits thrown back at him. "What?" he asked dumbly, before realisation set in. "Ooh, the Kalkerifeenians, right. Well there's no real difference; they do everything apart from carry the offspring. They can fertilize a female's eggs but then she has to pass them immediately on to a breeder to incubate them."

Ianto waited a beat, expecting from experience a filthy or suggestive comment to follow. "So they practise threesomes?" he asked eventually, unable to back down from that one. "A slug ménage à trois?" He struggled to keep the smile from his face at the Doctor's expression – the notion having evidentially never occurred to the Time Lord before.

"Ah, yes, well, I suppose some of them do..." The Doctor looked alarmed for a long moment before shaking his head to clear the disturbing thoughts. "We'd better not mention that fact to Jack."

"God, no. I dread to think what ideas he'd come up with." Ianto pulled a face. "Although now I have a mental image I really didn't want in my head."

The Doctor laughed, his ageless face beaming with amusement and Ianto smirked back at him for a carefree moment before his expression morphed into a frown. "You're looking at me."

"Am I?" the Doctor responded. "Of course I am, what am I saying? You're right there in front of me, of course I'm looking at you," he declared in a flurry of words. "Is that a problem? I'm sorry if it offends you."

Ianto ignored his babbling and continued calmly. "I mean you're not squinting or looking away."

"Oh," the Doctor replied. "Oh! No, I'm quite used to you now. It was much harder to learn to deal with Jack's presence than yours."

"You're telling me," Ianto muttered.

"Yes, Jack is a completely fixed point in time," the Doctor continued, either mishearing or purposefully misunderstanding his comment, "but you're only partially fixed. Your possibilities still aren't completely endless and varied, unlike Jack." He waved a hand, drew a circle in the air with one finger and nodded to himself as though that was explanation enough.

Ianto had been in the process of setting his clipboard down on top of the tank but he turned back sharply at the Time Lord's words, a little alarmed. "What do you mean his possibilities are endless? Is that a bad thing?"

"You want an actual explanation?" the Doctor asked, bemused. "Can't you just smile and nod and pretend you know what I'm saying?"

"That wouldn't help me understand him now, would it?" Ianto countered with a shrug.

The Doctor expressively blew out a long breath. "You're hoping for a lot there," he observed. "But okay, if you insist?"

Ianto gave a firm nod.

"Okay." The Doctor strolled around to a different side of the glass tank, idly watching the aliens as he spoke. "Well, every living being is capable of doing or being a lot of different things, the possibilities that arise from their existence spread out before them like...like pieces of string disappearing off into the distance, or the future, as it were. I can sort of sense those possibilities, the directions their lives could take and all that could be brought about because of them. Normally they're limited, constrained by certain elements, death being the most prominent, but Jack's got rather knotted when he was made immortal."

"Wait a minute," said Ianto. "Even if his 'strings' are longer than everyone else's, he'd surely still limited by what he can and can't do, beyond cheating death."

"Technically, maybe, but they reach very _very_ far, as close to eternity as any being can imagine, and that is a _lot_ of string." The Time Lord combed a hand through his hair, leaving it even more dishevelled than before. "It's a bit overwhelming to consider really."

Ianto couldn't help but nod at that slight understatement. "I can imagine." He frowned. "Actually, no I can't." He gave the other man a pensive look. "But my possibilities are still short, right?"

The Doctor opened his mouth to respond, made a non-committal noise, and snapped it shut again with a clack of teeth.

"Ah," Ianto said in understanding.

"What?" the Doctor asked.

"You're going to claim you can't tell me about my future, aren't you?"

The Doctor eyed him suspiciously, confused by his accepting tone. "You're okay with that?"

Ianto strolled around the next corner of the glass tank, until he was opposite the Doctor. The Kalkerifeenians followed him, paying no heed at all to the Time Lord, and he smiled to himself at their behaviour. "Oh I completely understand," he replied. "But if you'll recall, I wasn't actually asking for details. Just a clue as to how alike I am to Jack now."

"You're not immortal," the Doctor said, almost immediately.

Ianto raised an eyebrow at him in silent query, surprised by the straight answer considering the Doctor's penchant for ambiguous responses.

"I didn't want you testing the theory," the Doctor explained with a shrug.

"I wasn't planning on doing any such thing."

"Oh."

Ianto laughed, then took a moment to straighten his suit, his fingers precise in their actions. "What about yourself?" he asked when he was satisfied everything was in order. "Can you see your own possibilities?"

The Doctor's eyes widened a bit at the suggestion. "Why would I want to do that?"

"I'm sure you wouldn't. I just wondered if you _could_."

"Ah," the Doctor said gravely. "If I ever could it would have been back in my childhood, but living as long as I have, doing what I do, I've stopped looking at myself in the way I look at other people."

Ianto continued to consider him, trying to make sense of this being who appeared so deceptively human and yet had the undeniable eyes of someone who'd seen more than any mere Earthling could ever imagine.

"You know, you're taking this all very calmly," the Doctor remarked suddenly and Ianto fancied he could see the other man fidgeting beneath his scrutiny. "You're not flustered, or in shock, or even overly excited."

Ianto gave a small shrug. "Should I be? It doesn't really change anything."

"You're going to be young for the rest of your life."

"Only on the outside," he sagely pointed out. "Besides, I work here. Chances are I'll be dead long before I have to start lying about my age."

The Doctor looked at him with impossible eyes, and Ianto felt as though his very soul was being examined. The young man smiled thinly and gave another shrug. "You just confirmed my situation isn't like Jack's. I understand what that means."

"That's good," the Doctor said brightly. "No need to get ones hopes up for the impossible. Of course nothing _is_ impossible, just improbable, so perhaps I should say no need to hope for the improbable. But no, I shouldn't say that either, because if no one hoped for anything improbable, nothing would ever get done or dreamed or created." He tugged on his earlobe, troubled by his own words. "So should I be encouraging you to hope for it?"

Ianto's smile became more genuine, amused by the other man's verbal meandering. "I'd rather you didn't," he said. "If it's any help."

"It is, actually. Well, good, good, as you wish, Mr. Jones." The Doctor stuck his hands into his pockets once again and rocked on his heels, attention drawn back to the tank.

"You can't help him, can you?" Ianto asked, unable to stop himself. "You can't do anything about Jack's immortality."

"No, I can't." The Time Lord's tone was regretful but firm.

"So he'll never die? Ever?"

"I...don't know about that one."

"He is aging. It's slow but it's happening, Owen said. Surely his body would have to give out at some point? Reach a point where it can't take another resurrection?"

The Doctor looked uncomfortable. "Perhaps."

Ianto blinked, taking a moment to consider the other man's tone. "This is another one of those things you can't talk about, isn't it?" He sighed, not needing an answer. "Can you cure me?"

"Would you want me to?"

Ianto considered it for a long moment. He hadn't been joking when he'd declared it unlikely he'd live long enough for his lack of aging to be an issue, but as he stood there, eyes sliding away from the Time Lord's piercing gaze, he realised he'd apparently allowed some of Jack's enthusiasm to slip into his heart.

If it _were_ possible for him to cheat death long enough to live longer than normal, would he make every effort to do so? It wasn't as though he purposefully put his life in danger, but perhaps with a little more care, he could greatly extend his lifespan. Given the extra time, he could do so much, help so many people, especially if he didn't have the worry of infirmity and losing his usefulness in the field.

Ianto's sudden zeal about the possibilities laid before him lasted only a few seconds before he realised that, even if his body was long-lived, there still remained the question of his mental state.

"Can I ask you something?" he began slowly, considering as he spoke how to phrase his concerns without it sounding like utter paranoia. "Lurrelia had the ability to project herself into another's body and control their actions without that person realising. But was there a limit to how far she could go?"

The Doctor took the change of topic in his stride this time and answered immediately. "Well you know, distance doesn't even factor into the equation when it comes to that kind of mental prowess..."

"I meant more existentially," Ianto interrupted. "How much of an influence could she have had over the host's personal thoughts? Or their feelings?"

The Doctor examined Ianto's features for a moment, reading deep beneath the question. Ianto resisted the urge to look away, well aware that he had effectively laid bare all of his fears before the alien. "When the Perscalla-Fam fully grew into their mental abilities they were, they _will _be, unrivalled in that field for millennia. At the beginning they weren't so adept, sparking Lurrelia's assumption that she was alone in her abilities, but it sounds as though she would have been considered quite gifted, even if she'd been born later in the Fam's development."

Ianto listened intently, trying hard to ignore the chill creeping over his skin. He couldn't comprehend what it would feel like to be so different to everyone else around him; to have the ability to do something that his peers couldn't even understand because of their animalistic nature. She must have felt incredibly lonely, and really it was no wonder that she'd desperately sought a reason for her abnormality, as she'd considered it, and yet despite all of that, Ianto could not feel any pity for the alien at all.

"So as to the extent of her influence," the Doctor went on in a thoughtful tone, "I'd think she could probably submerge herself deeply enough that the host would never realise their behaviour was out of the ordinary."

Much against Ianto's expectation, he felt only numbness at the Doctor's reply. He had thought hearing once and for all that his fears had some basis would shake him to the core, but he felt nothing. Shock, he noted absently, though recognising that fact did not make it dissipate.

"Of course that would only work on a weak mind," the Doctor declared, fixing Ianto with a meaningful look. His eyes bore into the young human's and a shiver ran along Ianto's spine, the room once again seeming to lean in towards the Time Lord. "And you don't have a weak mind, do you, Ianto?"

Hearing his name spoken in that powerful voice left Ianto speechless, but even had he been able to respond, he had no idea how he would have answered. He wanted to consider himself a strong person, but at the same time, admitting that strength would mean no longer being able to blame Lurrelia for the development of his recent perversions.

Ianto's eyes slid away, ashamed to even look at the other man. If it wasn't because of an alien's influence, then it was all down to him; the panic over his loss of control, his sudden and desperate obsession with pain, everything. It was a terrifying prospect to think that all the changes in his life would have likely happened, even had Lurrelia not messed around in his head. Could he really believe he would have turned to masochism if she hadn't subjected him to that first experience of pleasure through pain?

"Anyone can see you don't," the Doctor declared, breaking through Ianto's reflective silence.

The young man shook his head, not wanting to hear any more and he held up a hand to ward off further discussion of the matter. "I really don't-" he trailed off, noticing movement from the corner of his eye, and looked across the room to find Gwen standing in the doorway, staring at them with large unblinking eyes.

She was wearing only the long baggy t-shirt Rhys had brought for her to sleep in; her feet were bare, her dark hair tousled and unkempt, and from one hand...

(Ianto's heart gave a lurch.)

...from one hand dripped blood.


	15. Chapter 14

"Gwen?" Ianto spoke as lightly as he could, attempting to ignore the alarm quickening his pulse. "Are you all right?"

She said nothing, merely stood like a statue in the doorway, and Ianto exchanged a glance with the Doctor before he tried again. "Does Owen know you're out of bed?"

Gwen remained silent, eyes sliding over the room. Disturbed, Ianto looked down to the dark liquid dripping from her hand and swallowed hard. There had been an IV line in that arm, but even the wound from a violent removal could surely not have produced so much blood.

He reached up to activate his earpiece, but at the movement Gwen's attention snapped to him and she took a few steps forward, her gaze so piercing that it actually stopped him in his tracks.

He froze with his hand in mid-air, but then, as though hearing his mental call, his comm. suddenly burst into life all by itself. "Ianto, are you there?" Tosh called, voice strained and anxious. "You need to come back up here. I've just found Jack..." she hesitated, "...he's _dead_, Ianto."

Ianto's jaw clenched, eyeing Gwen as she stalked another step into the room. He moved back slowly, the Doctor shadowing him on the other side of the glass container, and took the opportunity to inch his hand the rest of the way to his ear. "I'm a bit busy with an unexpected guest right now, Tosh. Someone who's gone against doctor's orders and gotten out of her bed too soon."

"Gwen's there?" Tosh asked in surprise.

"Yeah, she's not looking her best at the moment either," Ianto said. "No offence," he added to the woman in question.

"Look at her fingers," the Doctor murmured across the top of the Kalkerifeenian's tank.

"I saw," Ianto replied, still staring at her unblinking eyes. She glanced between them, intense scrutiny and, strangely, faint confusion on otherwise blank features.

"No. _Look_," urged the Time Lord and Ianto dropped his gaze to her hand once again.

At first he could see only the blood, undoubtedly Jack's, and he faltered for a moment over the instinctual horror of the Captain's death. Then he realised something far more alarming was amiss than just the blood upon those digits. "Oh, God," he breathed.

"Ianto?" Tosh asked tentatively in his ear.

"I'm here," he said. "Do you know if the others are all right?"

Instead of Tosh, Owen responded. "I'm just going to check on Rhys now," the medic told them, his voice accompanied by the crackle of swift movement. "Is Gwen hurt?"

"Actually I think Gwen's the one doing the hurting." He looked again to her stained fingers, the nails of which had seemingly grown into sharp curving claws, and gave a shudder.

She'd started moving again, slinking across the concrete towards them. It looked as though she was heading towards the Doctor's side and Ianto withdrew further, keeping the container between himself and Gwen. "Doctor," he whispered, motioning for the Time Lord to move over to him.

"What?" Tosh was asking. "You don't think she..."

It wasn't necessary for her to finish the question, nor even begin to ask it, considering the limited number of suspects and Gwen's current state.

"I don't know," Ianto lied. "Doctor!" he said again, growing more concerned as Gwen closed in on the alien.

"Go on," the Time Lord replied, waving at him. "Get out whilst she's distracted." He slid backwards, keeping his distance from Gwen, but showing no intention of running from her.

"I'm not just going to leave you," Ianto declared in disbelief.

"It's fine, she can't hurt me. Not really."

As the Doctor spoke Gwen closed in on him, eyes fixed with determination, and Ianto was sure he could see her preparing to leap. "Gwen!" he shouted, panicked by the threat against the Doctor.

She turned sharply and Ianto stumbled back a few steps, shocked by the terrifying hunger in her dark eyes. He recovered swiftly and began moving sideways towards the doorway, weighing up his options as he crept to freedom.

"Gwen!" It was the Doctor this time and Ianto glared at him across the room. "What?"

"Stop trying to get yourself killed," hissed Ianto. "Gwen, over here!" he said, lifting his voice again.

He needn't have bothered. Instead of returning her attention to the Time Lord, she was now transfixed by the alien slugs squirming their way around the tank, still trying to follow Ianto.

Surprised, but seeing their chance for escape, Ianto waved urgently at the Doctor. "Come on!" he said, keeping his voice low and inching even nearer to the door, completely unaware of the Kalkerifeenians growing more agitated by his movements.

Gwen, however, appeared to be watching closely and noted the effect Ianto's withdrawal had upon them, alerting her to his actions. Her eyes darted up, locking with his once again and Ianto recoiled, beginning to think drawing her attention wasn't the best of ideas. "Oh," he said, noting the same tensing of muscles that had led him to believe she'd been about to pounce on the Doctor.

There came the slightest flinch in his direction and Ianto finally gave in to his instinct to dart for the door.

He burst out into the hallway well ahead of her. The advantage wasn't much, however, and as she sprinted after him through the warren of subterranean corridors, Ianto grew very worried indeed. He had always known she was fit, but he'd never considered it would be an issue that might play against him. As such, he'd never thought about who was the faster of the two of them.

It turned out to be Gwen.

She leapt at him as he slid around a sharp corner, sending them both crashing into the hard concrete wall and tumbling to the floor. Ianto scrambled to his feet a moment later, but she curled a hand around his ankle and pulled him back down again.

"Gwen!" Ianto shouted. "Gwen, stop it!" He tried to push her away, hesitant to hurt her, but when stained, hooked nails swept through the air just in front of his eyes, he realised it wasn't _her_ who would get hurt first.

He grabbed hold of her wrists, locking his fingers around them and pushing her hands away, holding the deadly claws out of reach as he attempted to unbalance her from his chest. She struggled desperately, but said nothing, her features disturbingly still, despite the fact her body was doing its best to rip his face off.

"Bloody hell, you're strong," he grunted, his arms beginning to shake with the effort of keeping her at bay.

Gwen gave a grunt of her own and all of a sudden Ianto was aware that her writhing had become rather...different. Astonished, he let go of her as she ground her pelvis into his, and her hands dropped to his chest, nails gouging through his clothes and into his flesh like butter.

Both the pain and the shock kept him from being able to move and he lay there submissively as she twisted upon him. She tossed her head back, a bestial growl vibrating through her body, and then suddenly the Doctor was there grabbing at her shoulders.

Gwen turned to the newcomer, face still impassive, and tried to lunge at him, though her fingers were still hooked into Ianto's chest. The Welshman yelped, curling up from the floor at her tugging, unseating the distracted Gwen and allowing the Time Lord to dislodge her from him entirely.

As she rolled aside, coming back up to her feet and preparing to retaliate, another body barrelled around the corner and knocked her down again.

Ianto tried to get up as well, only to fall to his knees as the world span around him. A hand settled on his shoulder and the Doctor leaned down to peer at his face. "Are you all right?"

"Yep," Ianto replied tightly. He pulled himself up successfully this time, wincing as his battered ribs protested the movement, then paused to let the pain sweep through him. Pressing a hand to his chest, he grimaced as he felt the dampness there and then smiled grimly to himself; he'd considered it fortunate the stitches hadn't burst from Jack's ministrations the night before, but evidently being near-mauled by a colleague was just too much for them.

Across the hallway Gwen struggled to break free from the body pinning her down, but Rhys – who had evidentially been the one to perform the spectacular rugby tackle that had taken her down – was sprawled right across her, effectively trapping her flailing limbs. Owen was crouched beside her head, pressing a needle into her neck, but it seemed to have no effect.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," the medic raged, tossing aside the used needle and frantically patting his pockets in search of something. He retrieved a fresh syringe and began filling it from the tiny bottle of clear liquid he produced from another pocket.

"Is it safe to give her that much?" Rhys demanded, earning a dark glare in response.

"I'm not going to give her an overdose, you idiot." Owen stuck the new needle into Gwen, then threw it after the first, freeing his hands so he could hold her head still and measure her reaction to the drug.

Her thrashing slowed as Owen peered into her eyes, apparently satisfied that the sedative was working because he didn't move to give her any more.

Everyone in the corridor was motionless, the only sound the heavy breathing of exertion, as they began to actually think about the bizarre situation, rather than simply reacting to it.

Loud footsteps pounded along the corridor and Jack suddenly dashed into view. Everyone turned in time to see him skid gracefully to a stop, visibly surprised to discover that the crisis had already been averted. Tosh was right behind him and she stopped just as abruptly in surprise.

Jack's eyes darted over the scene, taking in everything at once, and then he grinned broadly. "This a private party or can anyone join?"

* * *

It had been a bit of a shock for Jack to wake on the floor, having no memory of how he'd come to be there. He'd lunged upwards, disorientated, but then Tosh had appeared to help him to his feet, looking worried but relieved. She'd filled him in quickly and through her words he'd soon remembered his confrontation with Gwen.

Not that there was much to recall. By chance he'd been rounding a corner just as Gwen had been racing in the opposite direction. He'd seen a flash of bared teeth, sensed the ferocity coiled tightly in her body as they accidentally crashed together, and had reacted accordingly. He remembered moving to restrain her, mind blank to anything other than the threat she presented, but after that there was only darkness. Tosh had touched his neck, expression sympathetic, and the reason for that darkness had become apparent.

Now it appeared that in his absence everything had been brought back under control and he couldn't help but feel a little pride at his team. Even Rhys had seemingly risen to the challenge, considering his position pinning Gwen to the floor, and Jack nodded at him in approval. The Welshman looked away and sat back on his heels, watching as Owen checked Gwen's pupils and pulse.

"Ianto?" Tosh said, pushing past Jack to where the young man was doubled over, one hand resting on a knee, the other on his chest. The Doctor stood beside him, gripping his shoulder as though he would fall over without the support.

"I'm okay," Ianto replied, straightening up with a groan. "Mostly just winded. She's fast."

"All right!" Rhys suddenly snapped, drawing their attention back across the corridor. He was lifting Gwen and holding her to his chest out of Owen's reach, a murderous look upon his face. "I've got her!"

Owen rolled his eyes and backed off. "Whatever."

"Rhys, take her back to the autop-" Jack began, only to be interrupted by Tosh.

"_Medical_ bay," she corrected quickly, opening her eyes wide in warning.

Jack blinked, then waved Rhys on. "Right! Medical bay, yes!"

The Welshman looked between Owen and Jack, accusation clear in his glare, before turning and stomping off down the hallway, muttering angrily to himself.

Everyone else remained silent and still until he was out of sight, though they shared wary glances at his furious departure.

Jack broke the hush, when he saw his lover frowning down at the hand still pressing on his chest. A flash of red had Jack snatching the other man's wrist and pulling it aside to expose the stained tatters of his jacket and shirt. "Ianto!" he said in alarm.

"It's okay, I think it's stopping." Ianto looked up, turning his frown towards the Captain's own ruined clothing. Jack knew he looked a mess, arterial blood having covered his entire front, but at least _his _wound was long gone.

"Get out the way then," Owen growled, elbowing Jack aside and starting to peel the soaked material aside.

"She's got claws now," Ianto said matter-of-factly, whilst Owen began stripping him right there in the corridor. "I couldn't see anything else that had changed though. Besides her behaviour, of course."

"Yeah, anyone want to theorise about that?" Jack asked, eyes fixed on the deep gouges in Ianto's chest. He was remembering a time not so long ago, when similar scratches had marred the young man's skin. That set hadn't been nearly as life-threatening as these, but they had certainly been life-_changing_.

"It's obviously more of the animalistic traits coming through," Owen replied glibly.

"I spoke to her a few hours ago," Jack told him. "She was fine then."

"A few hours?" Owen shook his head. "That's not long enough for this much of a change. Something must have set her off." He pulled away from peering at Ianto's new and re-opened wounds, grabbed him by the upper arm and tried to steer him after Rhys. "Come on, all my gear's upstairs."

"What about Gwen?" protested Ianto, digging in his heels.

"Gwen's drugged up to the eyeballs. She can wait a few minutes."

"Owen's right," Tosh added, darting forward to take his other arm and helping to pull him along. "And Gwen wouldn't want you suffering any more because of her."

Ianto could do nothing to stop them and they bustled him away, leaving Jack and the Doctor to follow behind.

Jack glanced at the man beside him. He felt a sudden and irrational surge of irritation, the images of both Gwen's limp body and Ianto's bloodied chest superimposing all his other thoughts. "Why aren't you rushing around, talking a mile a minute and fixing this?"

The Doctor gave him an alarmed look, before his expression softened into understanding. "How do you propose I do that?" he asked. "I can't alter Gwen's genes just by waving my Sonic Screwdriver and doing a little dance around her. This is something your experts have to do." He paused and a faintly self-satisfied expression crept across his features. "Although if you must know, I've given your mainframe a bit of an upgrade to help them develop the treatment."

Jack arched an eyebrow at him. "And is that all you're planning to do?"

"Jack," the Doctor sighed. "I won't be able to come every time you call, and I won't always be able to actually _help_ either. Some things you have to do for yourself."

"So you don't want to help?"

"Now I didn't say that, did I? Of course I want to, but the way to help now is to let you and your team sort things out for yourselves."

Jack gave a huff of frustration. "I've heard that excuse before. In fact I've used it myself, when the Agency wanted me to keep my distance. Usually because something bad needed to happen without me intervening."

"Oh, hush, nothing bad is going to happen."

"You know that for a fact?"

"I know there isn't a record instance of total genetic transformation on Earth in this century. Is _that_ any reassurance to you?"

Jack took a moment to consider the other's words. In truth he hadn't been aware of any such case either, though he'd never considered himself an expert in Earth's history and was therefore hesitant to trust his limited knowledge. Of course there was always the possibility that news of such an important event might have been suppressed, but even in that case Jack was sure the Doctor would be aware of so significant a development.

That said, he also knew to take the Doctor's words with a pinch of salt... "What do you mean _total_ transformation? Is there an instance of anything less than total?"

"Oh, yes, plenty of them!"

Jack slowed, putting out a hand to keep the Doctor with him. He waited, watching the three figures ahead of them until they were completely out of earshot. "That's not as reassuring."

"Well, some might consider it a better alternative." The Doctor shrugged, leaving Jack to waver between raging at the Doctor's sense of importance and laughing at the entire situation.

"What about recorded instances of immortals?" he asked, settling on neither one.

The Doctor was quiet and Jack narrowed his eyes at him. It was incredibly difficult to read the Time Lord, and though Jack prided himself on being better at it than most, there were still times when the alien's thoughts were just impossible to gauge.

"He isn't immortal, Jack," the Doctor said eventually, meeting his gaze with one of almost sadness. Almost, because at the same time Jack suspected he could see something very much like relief in the other's features as well.

"Are you sure?"

"As sure as anyone can be."

Jack nodded. "That's good. I'm glad."

"Are you?"

"What? Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, I'd understand if you were pleased to have someone who shared your situation."

Surprise kept Jack from replying for a long moment. "I wouldn't wish this on anyone," he eventually managed to growl. "And Ianto certainly wouldn't want it, either."

"Wouldn't he?"

"What?" Jack said again. "Of course he wouldn't. Who _would_ choose to be an outcast with no connection to the world?"

The Doctor gave him a curious look. "I don't think immortality is the reason for those things."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

But the Doctor said nothing, starting off again down the hallway instead. Jack stalked after him, unhappy with the insinuations poorly hidden within the Time Lord's words. "Doctor," he said, voice dropping to a threateningly low tone.

"This is another thing I can't help you with," came the cheerful response, serving to irk the immortal even further. The Doctor was even smiling, keeping his profile turned to Jack and avoiding meeting his gaze. Anger surged once more in the Captain's mind, but he suppressed it quickly. Shouting at the Doctor would achieve nothing, he knew that well enough, no matter how the urge made him physically tremble.

They walked on in silence, Jack shooting the occasional unanswered glare at the Doctor, until suddenly a loud shout came from up ahead of them. It was followed a few moments later by a loud thump, and shortly after that alarms began to screech through the air.

Jack immediately began running, mind awhirl with possibilities for the commotion, and the Doctor fell in beside him, smile gone from his lips.

They came across Ianto first of all, evidentially left behind by his colleagues and on the verge of toppling over. Jack swooped in, curling one arm around his waist and taking most of the younger man's weight onto himself.

"No," Ianto tried to protest. "Help the others."

Jack would have scoffed at the suggestion, had the situation been any lighter. Instead he merely grunted a negative and urged his burden forward, towards the centre of the Hub, right on the Doctor's heels.

As they half-ran, half-limped on, the Captain realised for the first time that within the cacophony of alarms could be heard the tone for the cog door opening. Startled, and a little sceptical that he wasn't hearing things, he glanced at the man beside him, receiving a confused shrug in response.

"We heard Rhys shouting," Ianto explained. "Owen and Tosh went to check on him."

"Gwen?" Jack asked grimly, trying not to imagine what else could have gone wrong. He didn't want to think that Rhys had been right to worry over the amount of sedative Owen had given her, knowing that, no matter his history in other areas, the doctor's mistakes in medicine were few and far between.

"I assume so." Ianto's expression matched Jack's for concern, then they were suddenly out in the large open chamber and they no longer needed to guess.

At the base of the water tower Owen was attempting to untangle himself from an apparently dazed Rhys, Tosh was bent over the nearest workstation, tapping furiously at the keys, and Gwen...was nowhere to be seen.

"Oh, God," Ianto breathed from Jack's side.

Tosh looked up at their harried arrival, features tight and worry in her eyes. "She's gone, Jack," she said, not needing to be asked. "She got out."


	16. Chapter 15

A/N: I have a GREAT excuse for my lack of updates...it's called Sherlock. Yep, I'm still obsessing over it! (And giving in to start writing for it too, lol) But apparently Jack and Ianto can't keep quiet for long so this story won't die until it's finished, I promise!

My thanks to those reading and reviewing!

* * *

Jack ran out into the afternoon light without hesitation. He also ran without direction, meaning that he chose every turn by instinct, sometimes inadvertently covering ground already passed. Though he knew his dashing about was not likely to produce results, he simply couldn't stop. Occasionally Tosh's voice sounded in his ear offering possible sightings or an update on everyone else's wellbeing, but otherwise he was left alone to try and outrun his fear.

He couldn't lose Gwen, he just couldn't.

* * *

Ianto leaned heavily against the examination table, holding a gauze pad to his bleeding chest with one hand and helping Rhys sit upright with the other. "What happened?" he asked, watching Owen dart around the room searching for something.

"Flying fucking Welshmen," Owen answered moodily, dropping a couple of items onto the table before grasping Rhys' head and tilting it to the side. There was a small gash on his temple, which had leaked blood all the way down to his chin, and Owen peered at it with what seemed to be resentment.

"Wha?" Rhys responded in confusion, blinking dumbly at the man holding his head. Owen merely gave a grunt and began pulling roughly at his eyelids, checking for a concussion.

"This idiot started shouting for help, like there was something wrong with Gwen, so I ran out only to be knocked over when she practically threw the big lump across the room." As he spoke, Owen produced a penlight and flashed it in Rhys' eyes. "God knows how she could even move with all those sedatives in her system, much less hurl grown men around."

"Are you all right?" Ianto asked, attempting a visual check on the breakable medic's body without moving too much. It hurt to twist and he'd already done enough of that in manhandling Rhys down to the medical bay.

"Fine," came the sharp response. Ianto resisted pushing the matter, recognising the anger in Owen's tone; he was able to move freely, so it was unlikely much, if any, damage had been done. The possibility, however, that he'd made a mistake somehow in subduing Gwen was undoubtedly eating him up inside. "So's he," Owen added, releasing Rhys' head and reaching for a small bottle at his side.

"No stitches?"

"Nah, the bleeding's already stopped so just glue." The medic began to clean out the wound, creating rivulets in the blood caking Rhys' face. The sting of the liquid seemed to bring the older Welshman further back to reality and he winced at the sensation.

"Wha's goin' on?" he slurred, automatically trying to flinch away from Owen's touch.

Ianto opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by the door alarm piercing through the air. With barely a glance at Owen he let go of Rhys, trusting the medic to catch him, and hurried up the stairs, forgetting for a moment that such vigorous motions were currently accompanied by pain. He reached the top of the curving steps and paused, grimacing against the ache he'd accidentally aggravated, then looked over in time to see the Doctor emerging from behind the giant cog.

The alien walked in with a look of amusement upon his face, turning to watch the door roll back into place. He span on his heel as it clicked home and bound up the stairs to where Tosh and Ianto were watching him expectantly, grinning as he slid to a stop before them. "It's smaller on the out-" he began cheerfully, only to fall silent at their grim expressions. "Never mind," he said, smile fading somewhat, then nodded towards Ianto. "You're still bleeding."

"Did you find her?" Ianto demanded, returning his gauze-filled hand to his chest but otherwise ignoring mention of his injury. "Where's Jack?" He glanced at Tosh, unsure how to interpret the Time Lord's chirpy act. Surely she would have told them if Jack had reported in with good news.

"No, and I don't know." The Doctor gave a casual shrug. "He outran me for once."

* * *

"Jack?" It was Ianto this time, not Tosh, and the Captain slowed to a walk at the sound of his voice. "Jack, where are you?"

"On the waterfront," Jack answered, looking around as he spoke. "Apparently."

"No luck I take it?"

"No. Anything on the screens?"

"Nothing concrete," replied Ianto. There was a faint swish of noise as the younger man moved about whilst he talked. "She did a great job avoiding the cameras on the Plass, and either she's doing just as well avoiding people, or else anyone who's seen her is being typically British and ignoring the mad grey woman running about in just a t-shirt."

Jack gave a reluctant hum of agreement. It was alarmingly easy these days to pass off strange occurrences, thanks to that innate willingness to turn a blind eye to anything out of place.

"Tosh is checking the next few circles of CCTV feeds beyond the Plass and I've got a search running on the usual social networks for mention of a sighting, but there's nothing to report yet."

"Right." Jack took a few steps forward to the railing separating him from the water, leaned his elbows on the metal and rubbed his hands over his face. He realised suddenly how exhausted he felt, both physically and mentally, and sighed heavily.

"It's been a couple of hours, why don't you come back?" Ianto suggested. "We should probably try to anticipate her moves, rather than just chasing after her. This is Gwen, after all."

By 'we' it was clear the younger man meant Jack, and by asking that he return to the Hub it was even clearer Ianto thought it time Jack stopped running around in circles. Tactful, and unfortunately very accurate. Jack sighed again. "Yes, it is." It _was _Gwen: clever, resourceful Gwen, and he was hardly going to bump into her wandering the streets of Cardiff.

So what was he doing out here, completely ignoring common sense?

It wasn't often he gave into panic, especially to the point of bypassing every rational response and succumbing to the adrenalin coursing though his veins, so why now? Gwen had always possessed a certain hold over him, but was that enough to justify his complete loss of reason? Jack smiled wryly to himself; yes, it was, and it would always continue to be so.

"I think you should come back now," Ianto said quietly, unwittingly interrupting Jack's musing. "I'm...the others and I are getting worried."

The others... Would he be acting this way if it were one of the others instead of Gwen?

The answer made him straighten up, astonishment filling his mind. Of course he would. They were his team and he would do anything within his power for each and every one of them. But it wasn't the fact that he would do _everything_ for them that surprised him so much, it was that he hadn't made the connection before.

It had never entered his mind to question whether he would give his all for Gwen, it had been an indisputable fact almost since the moment they'd met, but it wasn't because his feelings were stronger for her, it was because he felt _so_ _much _for his team. His family_._

"Jack?"

The Captain shook away the thoughts, confused by the emotions currently stirring at his realisation. He didn't know how to interpret them, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to try right then; not if they were going to contradict his every belief up to that moment.

"Jack?" Ianto asked again, his voice growing more wary with each repetition.

Jack drew in a deep breath. "I'm on my way."

* * *

"Finally!" Owen declared as Jack stepped into the Hub. He waved for the Captain to hurry over, scowling when he took too long.

Tosh and the Doctor were sitting on the sofa, the Time Lord relaxing back into the tatty old cushions with his feet up on the coffee table. Jack's eyebrows rose as he passed. "Comfortable?" he asked, kicking the table and making the Doctor jerk upright.

"Oi!" snapped Owen. "Listen up, will you!"

Jack stopped at Ianto's side, where he leaned against Tosh's workstation. The younger man gave him a curious look, clearly unsure how to interpret the Captain's earlier behaviour. Fortunately for Jack, Ianto was unable to question him at that point, for Owen had started talking, loudly, as he stalked across the open space.

"So it's clear Gwen's behaviour has regressed to a more primitive state," Owen said. "She's retained her knowledge of how things work, that much is clear from her ability to evade us so far, but her actions are driven by a few basic animal impulses." He swept his sharp gaze across his audience. "All we need to do is predict those impulses and from there we can guess where she'll go."

"Cardiff's a big city," Ianto noted and Owen rounded on him, animated by the challenge.

"Yes, but she'll only be after three things." He paused for effect, before lifting his unsullied hand and counting off his words. "Food. Shelter. Procreation."

His dramatics were indeed successful, judging by the silence that followed. The medic gave Ianto a smug look and began pacing again. "She'll be after one of those right now and I can almost guarantee it'll be shelter. She'll want to fully shake off the threat she thinks we pose, so going into hiding is the sensible choice."

Ianto could apparently hold his tongue no longer. "That doesn't make Cardiff any smaller," he said. "Unless you're suggesting she'd go somewhere she already knows?"

"That's exactly what I'm suggesting!" Owen whirled on him again, a wide grin splitting his pale face. "She remembered how to get out of the Hub, she remembered where the cameras are around the Plass, so I bet you anything she remembers where the best places are to hide!"

Ianto shook his head, not sharing Owen's enthusiasm over that conclusion. "I agree it's likely she's retained knowledge of all those things," he began evenly. "However Gwen is hiding from_ us_. She'll know where we'd look and she'll also be aware of places we'd never think of as connected to her."

Owen was struck dumb, though his eyes revealed the mixture of anger and annoyance he felt. Not at Ianto, at least not directly, but at the flaw in his logic that Ianto had highlighted.

"What about the other impulses?" Jack asked, deciding to wade in and keep the ideas flowing.

"Yes," Owen said absently, before livening up once again. "Yes! When she thinks she's lost us, she'll feel safe enough to go in search of food."

"Or a mate," the Doctor added absently. He returned his feet to the table and settled back into the sofa, showing no reaction to the attention now upon him.

"I'm sure she'll be after food long before that," Owen said.

The Doctor shrugged. "Doubtful." He sounded entirely unwilling to consider Owen's judgment, which surprised Jack, and when the Time Lord then glanced meaningfully across to Ianto, Jack couldn't help but follow his gaze.

The young man's eyes had widened upon meeting the Doctor's and Jack tilted his head, staring in bemusement at him. "Ianto?"

Instantly a light flush spread high across his cheeks and he looked away uncomfortably. "Uh," he hedged. "She actually might _not_ want food first."

Everyone turned to him now, both Tosh and Owen leaning forward with interest, though the Doctor remained in his relaxed position. Ianto cleared his throat, clearly giving himself a mental shake before starting to speak. "When she attacked me earlier, just before the Doctor turned up, she was..." he paused, mouth twitching as he searched for the right words, "...I think she was...excited."

"Oh, come on," growled Owen.

Ianto flicked his eyes to the medic, lips pressed into a tight line. "I wouldn't joke about this."

"How could...?" Tosh began to ask, before stuttering to a halt and altering her question. "What did she...?" Still unable to finish, she let the silence hang between them, whilst everyone's imaginations filled the gaps for her.

"She had me pinned down," Ianto explained. Jack could tell he was carefully holding his tone flat to reduce the discomfort all around. "I couldn't mistake the way she was moving."

"While she scratched the skin from your chest?" snapped Owen. "She's not into that, trust me."

"Owen!" Tosh breathed, but he waved her silent.

"Besides," he went on, "she's regressed to animal instincts, so she'd have gone after the alpha male here. Not the _tea boy_." He was gesturing madly at Jack, but he needn't have bothered, it wasn't as though anyone else could be considered the big dog there.

Jack didn't even resist the smirk that spread across his face; he liked the sound of being the alpha male of Torchwood. It did, however, raise some interesting questions... "I must've forgotten some of this world's courtship rules," he declared. "I mean, if ripping out my throat was meant to be an invitation, then I was sorely unprepared."

Ianto sighed tiredly before ignoring his lover and responding instead to Owen. "I'm not trying to say I'm ideal _mate_ material. I'm just telling you what happened."

"And what I almost witnessed happening," the Doctor chirped in, beaming with a smile that seemed far too innocent for his words.

The Captain's grin faltered slightly and he looked to Ianto, trying to determine quite how much truth lay in the Time Lord's joking. Had things been more serious than Ianto's account suggested? "The way we crashed into each other, she would've immediately seen me as a threat," Jack told them, turning solemn under the weight of that thought. "I tried to restrain her and she reacted accordingly."

"Right!" Owen agreed immediately. "Danger against her life would counter any urge to procreate." He grinned, clearly glad for an explanation of Gwen's behaviour. "Mystery solved! Okay, what kind of food-"

"Hang on," Ianto interrupted. "Shouldn't we be worried that Gwen's going to pounce on some other unsuspecting bloke?"

Owen gave a derisive snort. "Oh yeah, we'd better rush out and save the poor sod about to get the best animal sex of his life."

Ianto groaned faintly, Tosh's expression tightened with disapproval, and even Jack had to roll his eyes at the medic's fatuous remark. "That's enough, Owen," the Captain said. "Ianto's right. We shouldn't rule out any possibility."

"So you think we should search for somewhere she can safely hunt for both food and men where we wouldn't see her on the CCTV network?" Owen's scowl reached a new level of darkness. "Brilliant. Not quite as narrow a field as I'd hoped but yeah, whatever, I guess we'll do it Ianto's way." He stomped off, leaving the rest of the team quiet and weary.

The Doctor, still slumped down in the sofa, began to whistle carelessly to himself.

* * *

"Is it just me or has Owen gotten grumpier since he died?" Ianto asked. He spoke to lighten the mood, but he might as well have remained mute for all the reaction he drew from the man currently prowling around the office.

He wasn't quite sure why Jack was so on edge, though he suspected it had a lot to do with the fact that every time they believed help for Gwen was within their grasp, it slipped away like sand through their fingers.

"Don't tell me she's going to be okay," Jack suddenly snapped, jerking Ianto from his thoughts.

He blinked at the older man. "I wasn't going to."

The Captain shook his head, clearly finding something to doubt in that answer. He didn't say anything, however, leaving Ianto to simply watch as his lover made another heavy-booted circuit of the room.

"Do you want to..." Ianto faltered for just a moment when Jack shot a fierce look over his shoulder, before finishing, "...talk about it?"

"Talk?" Jack echoed. "What's there to talk about?"

By the deceptive calm of the immortal's tone, Ianto knew he was on dangerous ground, but backing down was simply not possible. "Something big, apparently, judging by your mood." He waited, but Jack didn't respond, so he pressed on. "This isn't going to help her, you know."

There came no response, much to Ianto's vexation, and he began to weigh the options for his next move. Pushing the issue didn't seem to be working, and yet leaving Jack alone in that state would only make things worse. Feeling no impending enlightenment, Ianto moved away from the door and sat down on the sofa with a sigh.

"What happened?" Jack demanded immediately, as though the exhalation had awoken him. "Before the Doctor got to you, what did you two do?" He didn't stop moving, stalking back and forth with inexplicable restlessness.

"Pardon?" the younger man asked, not sure he had heard correctly. "You know what happened. She attacked me, took a lump out of my chest, then the Doctor pulled her away."

"I saw the state of your clothes."

"Gwen tore them with her...her _claws_, Jack." Ianto leaned forward, growing more confused by the moment. "What on earth do you think happened?"

He had, of course, already guessed the answer to that; it wasn't a big leap considering the few words with which Jack had graced him. But how the Captain could think something like _that_ was beyond Ianto. "Look," he said, when Jack didn't react, "I understand why you're worried, but I promise I didn't touch her."

"You promise?" Jack repeated, tone laced with doubt.

"I wouldn't do that to her, Jack. Bloody hell, I wouldn't do that to anyone in that situation. How could you think I would?"

The immortal finally stopped moving, turning to face Ianto with a dark look upon his face. "In _that_ situation, I think you could do anything."

Ianto was too stunned to respond and then suddenly Jack was coming towards him, his expression no lighter. Ianto leapt to his feet, unsure what was about to happen, only to be pushed back down onto the sofa without any care to his injuries. Jack loomed over him for a moment, searching his eyes for something, then he put both hands to Ianto's chest and pressed on the new wounds Gwen had made.

"She hurt you."

"Ah!" Ianto gasped, as what had been a continual hum of pain spiked violently into agony. He grasped Jack's wrists but his angle was all wrong to dislodge the older man. "Yes, she did!" he agreed through gritted teeth. "But that doesn't mean I did anything to her!"

"Pain, Ianto," Jack hissed, pushing down harder and curling his fingers.

That was too much for Ianto and he blindly swung a fist at the Captain, furious at the other man's accusations. His knuckles connected with Jack's jaw, barely a punch at all, but it provided enough of a distraction for him to shove Jack away and jump up from the sofa again. "I'm not a bloody animal, Jack! I don't hump everything in sight!" he shouted, blood rising to colour his cheeks with fury. "And I won't forget myself just because somebody hurts me!"

Jack was watching him with intense scrutiny. "What about Alex?"

Ianto gave a shudder at the name, though logically he knew he had no reason to fear that man's attentions anymore. "That wasn't the same!" he exclaimed. "That was nothing like what we have!"

The moment the words left his mouth Ianto's entire body froze with fear. He hadn't meant to say it like that, to make it sound so important between them; it hinted too much at certain feelings and if Jack picked up on it, Ianto was in danger of ruining everything.

"Come with me."

The young Welshman's lips worked around silent words before he managed to squeak out a: "What?"

Jack meanwhile had brushed past him and was whirling himself into his coat as he replied. "Come. With. Me. It isn't difficult."

Ianto could only follow obediently as Jack opened the door and disappeared.

Outside Tosh was at her workstation, flicking maps around her screens, whilst Owen stood beside her, occasionally pointing out an area of interest. They both glanced up when the door opened, having undoubtedly heard Ianto's raised voice moments earlier, but Jack paid no attention to them. Instead he turned left and led Ianto down the stairs in silence.

They were almost past the water tower when Owen's voice echoed across to them. "Where are you going?"

"To look for Gwen," Jack responded without stopping.

Ianto sped up just enough to ensure the Captain would hear his quiet question. "We are?"

"Yep," Jack said curtly.

"But the others are still compiling possible locations."

"That doesn't mean we can't start and let them catch up."

Ianto wasn't sure he could feel any more confused, but every time Jack opened his mouth it seemed to deepen his bewilderment. He glanced over his shoulder to find Owen and Tosh still watching them.

Something in his expression must have disturbed the doctor, for he took a few steps forward and called after them again. "Want me to come along?"

"Just get that list to us as soon as possible," Jack told him, and then he was around a corner into the maze of hallways.

Ianto looked again to his colleagues, waving away their evident concern with what he hoped was a convincing smile, then hurried around the corner himself before they could say anything else. He took a few long strides to fall back into place behind the Captain, noting the determined set of his shoulders beneath the long dark coat still stained with the juices of the giant alien slug.

"What's going on?" he asked. "Why are you acting like this?"

There was a huff of air, almost like a wry laugh, only so very faint that Ianto wondered if he might have imagined it. The thin sliver of Jack's face visible to the younger man offered no clue as to his thoughts either, save perhaps the tiniest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

For the few minutes it took to get down to the underground car park, the silence between them was incredibly tense. Every time Ianto tried to figure out why Jack was reacting so strangely to a non-event, he immediately thought up an argument against his theory. In the end it was easier to keep quiet and do as he was told; he certainly wasn't having any luck actually asking for an explanation, so why waste his breath?

At the exit they performed the familiar dance with the security system in coordinated hush, then they were finally out into the dimly-lit car park. It was late in the evening, as far as Ianto's internal clock could tell, and there were only a handful of vehicles scattered around that particular level, but he still checked out of habit to make sure no one had seen them emerge from their unremarkable door.

His attention was thus elsewhere when Jack seized his right wrist and slammed the metal loop of a speedcuff onto it. Ianto looked from his wrist, to Jack and then to Jack's hands, which were attaching the other half of the restraint to the driver's door handle of the SUV. "What the hell?" he finally managed to demand, when his brain had become unstuck again.

He tried to pull away, purely from shock rather than any hope he could dislodge the metal so easily, and this distraction proved more than sufficient for Jack to snap a second cuff around his free wrist. When he moved to clip Ianto's left arm to the rear door handle, however, enough sense had returned to the young man to offer up some form of resistance.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, trying to shake off Jack's hold on his arm.

The Captain squeezed hard in response, short nails digging into Ianto's skin, whilst he slid one foot surreptitiously to the side. The next thing Ianto knew his knee was crumpling beneath him and his wrist was being pulled to the side. Another metallic click marked his capture and he whipped his head around to glare at the man barely half a step behind him. "This isn't funny," he informed the immortal.

But Jack was grinning smugly and Ianto realised more than a simple protest was needed to get him out of this mess. "I thought we were going to look for Gwen."

Like a switch, Jack's smile turned sour and he reached up to grip tightly at the nape of Ianto's neck, turning his head and making him face the vehicle again. He leaned in close to Ianto's side, watching his profile but not letting Ianto look back. "You were right, you know."

Ianto could see Jack from the corner of his eye, but the details of his expression were hard to read at that angle. "About what?" he asked, tugging ineffectively at his restraints.

"Careful, you'll scratch the paintwork," Jack warned and Ianto immediately stopped. "You were right about this. It _is_ different." Jack's hand tightened on his neck, voice lowering solemnly. "Alex and Gwen...they could never offer you what I do. No one else could make you submit so easily."

Though it was likely Jack's hope all along, Ianto threw his weight to the side, bumping hard against the other man. The space between the two door handles wasn't that large, meaning he had a fair amount of freedom to move, and as such the shove he'd given Jack was successful in dislodging him.

For all of a second.

"The paint," the Captain reminded him, this time pressing against the length of Ianto's back and forcing him in close to the SUV.

"Fuck the paint!" Ianto growled. He gave a violent rattle of the cuffs to prove his point, only to be pushed forward again, right up against the tall vehicle. After bumping his nose against the cold metal, he turned his head to the side. "What do you want, Jack?"

A hand swept up beneath his jacket and along his side. "I'd have thought that was obvious."

Ianto tried to ignore the shiver Jack's touch produced. "What about Gwen?"

"We haven't got the list yet." He brought his second hand up and around to meet the other at Ianto's belt. "So we have plenty of time."

"Someone might come," Ianto protested.

"I should think so, yes."

The leer in the immortal's voice was obvious and Ianto sighed in exasperation. "I meant someone might see us."

"Probably."

"I'm not comfortable with tha-" He broke off when Jack, who had managed to get Ianto's trousers undone despite the young man's squirming, yanked them down roughly to his knees. The cold air hit his skin like ice and he inhaled sharply. "Jack, please."

"Please, what?" The Captain's hands moved up beneath Ianto's shirt to his nipples, pinching firmly and eliciting a gasp. At the sound, one of Jack's hands darted from Ianto's chest back to the nape of his neck and turned his head so their lips could crash together.

Ianto's brain was proving particularly slow at that moment in time and trying to keep up with the constant change in stimulus was leaving him one step behind. He opened his mouth to protest Jack's touch, but as they were already locked in a kiss, it served only to give his lover deeper access.

Jack took the unintentional invitation with great gusto, plunging into his mouth and tasting him deeply. Ianto slid his tongue against Jack's, drawing him further in and sucking mercilessly on the strong muscle. Jack smiled approvingly and twisted the nub between his fingers as a reward for Ianto's compliance.

"Why?" Ianto asked, tearing his mouth forcefully away from Jack's. "Why here?" An involuntary whimper escaped his lips as Jack's fingers squeezed even harder. "Not back in the office?"

"You followed me," Jack said. He released Ianto's head and wrapped his arm back around the younger man's waist, slipping his fingers into Ianto's underwear and taking hold of the stirring flesh within. "I told you to follow and you did."

"Wh-what?"

The catch in Ianto's voice made Jack chuckle. "You didn't have to follow me."

Jack pushed down his shorts and began to stroke his cock with determination, whilst Ianto's mind tripped over Jack's words. Of course he had to follow him. It was his job, wasn't it? Unless Jack meant... A particularly tight twist of the Captain's hand caused Ianto to forget himself for a moment. He drew in a shaky breath and tried to ignore the blissful things going on at his crotch. It had been a test, he now realised, a test to see if he would obey Jack.

He could have refused - and after their argument he was surprised the possibility had only occurred to him just then – but with just a simple order, Jack had him following blindly at his heels. Ianto laughed headily. It was a given really, that he submit eventually, but without even realising it...

"Nngh," Ianto groaned, shuddering at both the physical stimulus and the realisation that he was so far beneath Jack's control. His head fell back, breath reduced to shallow huffs, the moment of introspection falling aside as arousal won out over all else.

He was painfully hard in Jack's hand now, pulse throbbing in time with his lover's movements, his brain somewhere high above, leaving him with only the sensations of his body. There were fingers at his neck, pulling away his tie and popping the button at his collar. Ianto inhaled deeply at the release and Jack latched onto his earlobe, worrying it with his teeth.

The friction on his cock became lighter, but with Jack's tongue in his ear Ianto could not complain. When it vanished all together he did begin to protest, and then whimpered as a different kind of pressure took its place. With his mind still circling somewhere close to the concrete ceiling, Ianto couldn't bring himself to wonder what was going on down there, so long as he was still getting attention.

Then, incredibly, there was yet another change. Twisting of fingers, a sharp jolt to his flesh, and not even Jack's grinding against his backside could distract him any longer. His eyes snapped open and he looked down to discover his tie had been wrapped around his cock and knotted in place.

Chest heaving, Ianto tried to turn to look at Jack, but the older man gave him no chance, shoving him back against the vehicle and plunging two damp fingers into his arse.

"Oh!" Ianto bucked forward, bound flesh hitting the cold metal. The abrupt ache was incredible and he let out a needy sound, desperate to increase the stretch of his muscles. He pushed his hips back, wanting more and Jack laughed.

Inside his body, the fingers curled, grazing over his prostate once then withdrew entirely. "No!" Ianto cried before he could stop himself. "No, please," he gasped. Another chuckle beside his ear and the fingers returned. Jack began hitting his prostate again, over and over, his other hand sliding back up into his shirt, scraping hard over the wounds there.

The combination could have easily been enough to send Ianto over the edge, had he not been ensnared by the snug tie around his cock. Another whimper escaped his lips. "Please, Jack," he breathed. "Please, please, please."

"Mmm," the Captain murmured into his ear. He ran his tongue over the younger man's neck, tracing the bump of his spine above his collar. "Only one thing could make this better." Ianto didn't say anything, sure he knew that thing could only be Jack's cock in his hole. The fingers left off playing with his bandages, then...

"Owen?" Jack called.

Ianto jumped, caught off guard by the normal tone of his lover's voice, and then again when he realised just what had been said. _Owen?_ He knew that should concern him, yet he was flying too high to really know why.

"I've changed my mind. Get your kit and come with us."

More calmly-spoken words and Ianto's brain began to skip. "Owen?" he asked.

"Not yet," Jack told him, leaning back in and dropping his voice again. He hadn't stopped the torturous movements of his fingers inside Ianto's body all this time, and the young man's hips were rocking eagerly even in his confusion. "How long do you think it will take for him to get down here? Five minutes?"

Ianto shook his head, unable to even remember how long a minute was. He could only think about Owen walking through the door and catching them. "Oh god," he moaned. "Please."

"What do you want?" Jack's breath was hot in his ear. "Do you want me here?"

A third finger joined the others and Ianto's mouth fell open. "Aaahhh," he breathed, relishing the stretch. The movement of Jack's hand pushed him rhythmically into the SUV, each touch of the cold metal burning against the bare head of his erection, each jolt of his body pulling the skin tight around his injuries. "Yes. Yes, Jack. Please!"

Much to his delight, Jack's fingers vanished and were immediately replaced by the throbbing heat of the immortal's cock. Ianto grabbed the door handles and rammed back against his lover's thrusts. Could anyone else give him this? He moaned deep in his throat. Perhaps, but would he have allowed it? Would he have enjoyed it?

There had been no real pleasure with Alex, just relief that he could escape the strain of his memories for a while. This, however, this was driven by a connection beyond that. Even if Jack wasn't aware of it, it meant that much more to Ianto. It was unique to his experiences with Alex, unique even to any bond he'd held with previous lovers.

Jack latched onto Ianto's neck, biting the soft flesh beside his spine. He grasped the younger man's hips, crashing into him so hard he was forced up onto his toes. Ianto was soaring, trapped up in the clouds, skirting around the orgasm that he couldn't yet have. His groin was searing hot, his balls beginning to ache, and he leaned forward just a fraction more, allowing his bound cock to rub against the SUV's door.

"Oh no you don't," Jack huffed into his ear, releasing one hip in order to slap his palm hard against Ianto's buttock. The sound reverberated around them, echoing through the dim parking level, and Ianto wailed loudly.

Jack responded immediately with a sharp intake of breath, dick growing even firmer in Ianto's body. The young man grinned and squeezed the muscles surrounding Jack, purposefully tilting his hips to continue rubbing against the cold metal. On cue Jack slapped him again, striking the same spot and making his skin sting deliciously. Ianto didn't wail the second time, but the groan that escaped instead was seemingly just as good, for Jack thrust forward as hard as possible and exploded deep inside his young lover.

"Hah...ah..." Ianto gasped, holding on for dear life whilst Jack bucked violently against him, extending his orgasm and tormenting Ianto even further. The Captain took hold of Ianto's chin and drew his head around into another hungry kiss. Ianto couldn't help but battle for dominance, still riding the high that hadn't quite occurred, but Jack was stronger and the movements of his tongue replaced those of the softening cock he now slipped from Ianto's body.

A quiet beeping made Jack abruptly pull his lips away from Ianto's and he scrabbled for his earpiece. "Wait," he said, voice breaking slightly. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Owen, wait. We'll need a tranquilizer gun." He paused to pant quietly into Ianto's neck. "Pick one up, will you?"

Even as he reached up to disconnect the comm. Jack was leaning in to recapture Ianto's mouth. The younger man was still rubbing himself against the unforgiving metal, whimpering with denied need. The Captain slid his hands around the younger man's hips again and began to stroke the tightly wrapped flesh.

Ianto's lips fell slack against Jack's, forgetting everything but the demands of his cock. He barely noticed as Jack unknotted the tie, but when the pressure was replaced with long heavy strokes, he gasped loudly, scrambling without hesitation towards that pleasure, and came with a low moan after only a few seconds.

Jack was there again, kissing him as he milked the last few drops from his cock, before ruefully pulling away to unfasten Ianto's restraints.

The younger man tried not to grin as he hurried to pull up his shorts and trousers, gaze fixed on the tie that had fallen unnoticed to the ground. He picked it up and stroked the soft silk fondly. It hadn't been one of his favourites, but that might have to change now. His fingers were trembling too much to retie it, but he was definitely unwilling to abandon the damp garment to the dirty car park floor.

Jack's wrist strap began to beep again and they exchanged a look of panic - and just a little excitement - at Owen's impending arrival. The Captain quickly tucked the speedcuffs out of sight as Ianto used his soiled tie to wipe away the semen that speckled the side of the SUV. His breathing was gradually slowing down, though the grin still tugged at his lips, and he paused indulgently for a few seconds to examine the doors of the dark vehicle.

The Captain had been right to warn him about struggling too hard: there were scratches all over the handles now. Ianto pouted and brushed away a few loose flecks of black paint. "Bugger," he declared, realising they went straight through the paint and primer to the metal beneath.

"Bugger what?" Owen asked, emerging just in time to catch his not-at-all-heartfelt profanity.

Ianto span around, instinctively trying to hide the evidence of his tryst with Jack behind his back. "Uh," he said, feeling his face warm with embarrassment. "Um, just some scratches on the SUV."

"Oh great," Owen groaned. "You're going to make us all account for our use of it again, aren't you?" He clomped past Ianto and loaded his bags into the back of the vehicle. "Bloody DI Jones and the case of the tiny unavoidable stone chips."

"Actually-" Ianto started, only to stop as a thought suddenly struck him. He'd been about to tell Owen precisely what had caused the scratches, partly to see the shock on the medic's face and partly to convince him they had _not_ been doing anything at all perverted before he'd arrived. But even as the notion of double-bluffing Owen formed in his mind, Ianto realised it was the absolutely perfect answer to everything.

He blinked away the unfocused look in his eyes and found both Jack and Owen staring at him. With a smirk he pulled open the driver's door, ignoring Jack's immediate splutter. "Get in," he called. "I know where Gwen is."


	17. Chapter 16

A/N: Just a little one...I reached a natural cliffhanger and couldn't bring myself not to torment you and the boys ;)

* * *

Ianto brought the SUV to a halt and turned to his companions, waiting for their response. Owen was, unsurprisingly, the first to react.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Ianto shrugged and turned off the engine. "It makes sense. Gwen knows us, so it follows she'd think we wouldn't immediately look anywhere as obvious as her own home."

They all climbed out and looked up at the small block of flats. It seemed quiet enough; there were certainly no screams of terror or sounds of attack, nor were there any obvious signs outside that Gwen had been there. Still, Ianto was sure she'd be inside and he refused to back down until they'd done a thorough search of the building.

"So..." Owen began and Ianto closed his eyes, well aware of what was coming. "...I was right then."

Ianto didn't respond, moving instead to unload their supplies from the rear of the SUV.

"I was, wasn't I?" Owen went on persistently. "You shot down my idea and everyone just rolled over, but you should've listened to me all along!" He laughed gleefully. "Oh this is great. I'm going to remember this one forever!"

"Yes, yes," Ianto said. "You were right, I was wrong. We should have looked in the places she knows first." He rolled his eyes and tested the batteries in his torch. It was late and the street lights cast an orange glow over the road, making everything seem eerie and prime for an ambush.

"Wait." Owen began to scrabble through his pockets. "Wait, let me get my phone. I need to record you saying that."

"We are here for a reason, you know." Ianto glanced to Jack, hoping for some support, only to find the Captain wasn't paying any attention to them at all. He was staring instead at Gwen's building, expression solemn. "Jack?"

The immortal turned and offered him a familiar grin that concealed, at least from most people, his true anxiety. "All set?"

"I am," Ianto answered, lifting his hand to show his Taser at the ready. "Sedatives might not work, but she won't be able to shake this off."

Owen glanced down at the tranquilizer gun in his own hand. "That's a good point," he muttered. "Why did I bring this?"

Ianto coughed to hide his laughter and this time Jack did come to his rescue. "To give us options," he explained in a perfectly rational tone, which was perhaps even more suspicious than any other possible response.

Owen looked between them with a frown, but apparently failed to read between the lines. "Swap with me," he said, thrusting the weapon at Ianto, who took a step back and held his own out of reach.

"No, this is mine."

"Does it have your name on it?" Owen demanded, moving in to grab it away from the younger man.

"Actually it does." Ianto turned the weapon over, revealing a small white square upon its underside right before it was snatched from his hand.

Peering at the 'Property Of...' sticker in the light of his torch, Owen groaned loudly. "Oh, for God's sake! How friggin' old are you?"

"Ssh," Ianto said, calmly taking back his gun. "We don't want Gwen to know we're here."

"If she is here."

"If she isn't, then you'd be wrong again."

Owen scowled at him, but Ianto simply smiled back innocently.

"If you're both quite finished..." drawled Jack. He struck out across the road before either man could respond and they trotted after him towards the building.

* * *

At the front door Jack produced the spare keys he'd brought from the Hub and let them inside. They were quiet now, sliding into the dimly lit entrance hall with as little noise as possible, weapons at the ready.

There was nothing in the immediate area, beyond a hard-wearing door mat and some redundant coat hooks; certainly nothing to suggest a half-crazed woman had passed that way. They crept forwards, ears strained for the telltale signs of another body nearby, but all Jack could hear were the faint murmurs of televisions and the rumble of loud snorers. If Gwen had been here, she hadn't disturbed anybody, but did that mean she hadn't been in the building, or just that she had retained enough common sense to keep a low profile?

They started up the narrow stairs, where the lighting was even worse than the entrance.

"I can't believe we're hunting down Gwen like this," Owen murmured after half a flight.

Jack didn't bother hushing him. The stairwell was enclosed, with no places to hide that their powerful torch beams couldn't penetrate, and, more importantly, it was clear Owen felt the need to break the tense silence. somehow.

"Not long ago we couldn't believe we were freezing her," Ianto pointed out in a whisper.

"Well this is a little worse than freezing, isn't it?"

"Perhaps, but your disbelief is still moot, considering all the things we've seen and done already. And not just to Gwen."

Owen glared down the steps at the man behind him. "It was just an expression. Don't take it out on me if you two are having a domestic!"

At the front of the pack, Jack was free to smirk openly at the other's comment. There had been nothing 'domestic' at all about their recent interaction, whether Owen meant it that way or not. Admittedly it had arisen out of strange circumstances, driven by Jack's instinctual responses rather than any logical thought process, but he couldn't exactly say that had been a bad thing.

Looking back, Jack knew it was stupid to deny being aware his behaviour had been fueled by jealousy. The notion that Ianto would take advantage of Gwen was ridiculous, whether she was triggering his pain fixation or not, but the image of anyone else experiencing that side of Ianto had shoved common sense out the window and instead set aflame a possessive fury in Jack's chest. Reestablishing his control over Ianto with so simple a trick as ordering him to follow and then proving the command he held over the younger man's body had been a delicious method to resolve the issue. He couldn't even bring himself to regret giving into such a destructive emotion.

Jack realised he hadn't been paying attention to the others' bickering and missed Ianto's response to Owen's accusation. He opened his mouth to tell them to quieten down, feeling petulant that he'd zoned out at the wrong moment, when the comm. activated in his ear.

"Jack, it's me, are you there?"

"What's the matter, Tosh?" he asked.

They all paused, torches flashing up and down the stairwell to make sure they were still alone.

"Um, the Doctor's here," Tosh began, sounding a little harried. "He wanted me to tell you that he's had an...idea..."

Jack exchanged a look with his companions, who had lifted their eyebrows simultaneously at Tosh's words. "Dare I ask about what?"

"Also, can it wait?" Owen added, pointedly shining his light ahead of them.

Tosh hesitated. "Oh, is this a bad time?" she asked. "Sorry, but he's being kind of-"

"Captain!" the Doctor crowed loudly in their ears. "I like this, everyone being able to hear everyone else. It's very bonding!"

"Doctor, we're kind of busy right-"

"Don't you want to hear my idea?"

Jack could practically hear the pout in the alien's voice and he sighed loudly. "We think we have a lead on Gwen and I'd really rather you weren't babbling in our ears when we confront her."

"Oh," the Doctor said. "Well that's just a little hurtful. Here I am, figuring out a way to help your friend, but I suppose if you don't want to hear-"

"What?" demanded Owen. "You've got a cure?"

"Not a cure, per se," the Doctor replied, a faintly smug tone colouring his words. "But it'll do the job."

"That's an interesting way to put it," Ianto noted dryly. "What job is it doing, precisely, if not curing her?"

There was a distant crash of glass and the three men looked between themselves with alarm. "We'll talk later," Jack murmured, before clicking off his earpiece and returning his free hand to his gun.

They resumed their climb, trying to keep their footsteps soft though urgency was making their efforts less than perfect. They passed through the door at the next landing, weapons up, but the hallway was as empty as the rest of the building had been so far.

Gwen's flat was three along and when they crept closer, they discovered the door was ever so slightly ajar, as though it had been swung shut behind someone, but didn't catch in the frame. Another look passed between the men, conveying their readiness for whatever they found within, then Jack eased the door open silently with one foot and slid inside the apartment.

Jack's well-trained hearing immediately identified the sound of activity coming from the main room and he led the way without hesitation. At the corner, he paused and peered slowly around, ready to react if anything should come flying at him, be it human or otherwise. There was no attack, but rather he was presented with the rather unexpected sight of Gwen's backside sticking out from behind the open refrigerator door, the floor around her littered with half-eaten food and broken bottles.

His gun lowered a hair and he stepped forward, staring at the rather flattering view, whilst his companions crowded in behind him and immediately drew up short.

There was silence for a moment, then Ianto noted quietly, "She managed to get dressed then."

Owen gave him an unimpressed look that suddenly bloomed into one of pure conceit. "Looks like you were wrong about her priorities too," he said with a smirk. "Food won over a shag."

"I think you'll find that was the Doctor's idea," Ianto primly countered. "I said nothing of the sort."

The medic snorted in derision. "Yeah, yeah." He edged sideways, out from behind Jack, to better see the situation.

Jack, shaken from his ogling by Owen's movement, took a step in the other direction. "Looks like she planned to do that next," he said, still eyeing the tight jeans Gwen had apparently poured herself into. It seemed incredible that she would think to get dressed, when the last time they'd see her, she'd been far more interested in attacking everyone in sight. Of course it was encouraging as well, because it meant that Gwen was definitely still in there somewhere and the animal had yet to fully overtake her.

"Oh yes," Ianto whispered in agreement, and Jack couldn't resist glancing back to arch an eyebrow at him. The younger man shrugged and flashed a brief cheeky grin back at his lover.

"I knew food would be next," Owen declared, forgetting in his pride to whisper. "She's not eaten properly since being put in cryo. Like when bears come out of hibernation they don't-"

He bit off his words as Gwen abruptly span around and fixed wide eyes on him. She remained low, hands still wrapped tightly around a half-eaten raw steak, as she bared her teeth at the intruders.

Jack felt his heart jump into his throat as he saw that Gwen's face had turned the same shade of grey/green as the rest of her body; the change was happening so quickly, they were losing her right before their eyes. The one dim glimmer of hope was that she had managed to dress herself, and in an outfit that did everything to show off her figure, from the tight jeans to the low-cut top, it was precisely what Gwen might have once worn when she was single and looking for company. If procreation was, as Owen suggested, the third of her priorities, then she was evidently fueling up before going on the prowl.

"Uh." Owen had stilled under Gwen's angry gaze, his weapon held uselessly down at his side. "Not a bear, I mean a squirrel." Gwen dropped the meat and lowered herself further, gathering herself to pounce. "A cute little squirrel waking up-" Gwen began to growl, eyes flashing dangerously. "I mean, her body needs the extra energy to change into that fetching grey..."

Gwen launched herself forward, vicious claws stretched out before her, just as Owen flung himself backwards, tripping over the side of the sofa and tumbling to the floor.

"Gwen! Gwen, stop!" Jack shouted, levelling his gun at her. She ignored both his voice and the threat, instead jumping over the back of the sofa, entirely fixated on Owen as he struggled to get back onto his feet.

Ianto crowded forward, snapping up his Taser and firing without hesitation. The electrodes shot out, one catching Gwen's chest, the other her arm and the crackle of electricity filled the air.

Instead of dropping instantly, however, Gwen merely swiped her hand across her body and dislodged them.

"Oh, that's not good," Ianto said, suddenly the focus of Gwen's murderous glare. He lifted his arm again, but Gwen was too quick, darting easily out of the way of his second attempt.

Jack knew there was only one shot left in the weapon, but Gwen was closing in fast and Ianto had nowhere else to go. He leaped forward, mind empty but for the threat that neither sedatives nor shock could incapacitate, and reached the younger man at the same time as Gwen. They went down in a tangle of limbs, Gwen's claws ripping through material and skin before Jack managed, entirely accidentally, to elbow her in the head.

She rolled off the two men and back onto her feet, allowing them only a moment to breathe before she released a cry of frustration and jumped at them again.

Without a second thought, Jack swung his arm up, cocked the weapon he'd managed to keep hold of, and fired.**  
**


	18. Chapter 17

**A/N: I realised, whilst writing this chapter, I haven't watched TW or DW in years! That plus the slow pace at the moment means I've kinda forgotten how to write the Doctor, lol! So apologies if he seems OOC - I've ended up using him less than he deserves and frankly that makes me a sad panda :(**

* * *

"Bloody HELL!" Owen hollered. He'd just gotten back up from the floor, but immediately dropped down again at Gwen's side, hands reaching for the red spot blossoming across the material of her top.

Jack, still sprawled across the floor with his gun pointing upwards, was just beginning to realise what he'd done, whilst Ianto, who'd gotten half trapped beneath him in the confusion, wriggled free and clambered over to Owen in silence.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" the doctor continued to shout. He was pressing down hard on Gwen's abdomen, blood seeping between his fingers, his eyes darting everywhere for something he could use to staunch the flow. Ianto grabbed a thin blanket from the nearest chair and helped slip it under his hands.

Jack climbed to his feet, using the time to consider the question. "I was thinking about the murderous woman attacking us," he replied eventually. His heart was racing and he could taste bile at the back of his throat, but he stood by his decision to shoot. He hadn't been the only one in Gwen's sights after all, and even if he'd allowed her to reach him, there had been the distinct possibility that she'd kill him again, leaving Ianto and Owen in even more danger. He wasn't convinced they'd be willing to use sufficient force against her and had taken that step himself to save them the guilt which would undoubtedly follow.

"Fuck," Owen muttered, focused now on the wound beneath his hands. "I need my bag," he growled, waving in the direction of the hallway. Blood splattered from his fingers, falling on the sofa and Jack alike, but the Captain bit his tongue and turned obediently to retrieve the medic's abandoned kit. Deferring to Owen was really the best path for the time being, considering the anger that was now directed towards him. He passed the bag to Ianto, who took it without looking up.

Jack, however, was looking right at him, trying to spot any injuries he'd sustained but wouldn't mention. The clothes Ianto had changed into after Gwen's earlier attack were once again ruined, one sleeve of his jacket ripped and his trousers soaked with blood that thankfully wasn't his own. There was a long scratch across one cheek but it really wasn't that bad, all things considered.

"I wouldn't have missed again," Ianto said quietly, his head still down.

"She brushed off the first shot," Jack pointed out. He crouched, partly to try and catch Ianto's eye, partly to peer between the tears in his clothes and check the state of the new wounds there. "You can't know another would have stopped her." Discretion be damned, he decided, and slid a finger into the largest rip, pulling aside the material to reveal a deep line of red painted across Ianto's bicep.

The younger man shook him off. "I just needed more time."

Gwen suddenly twitched beneath Owen's hands, a strangled moan escaping her lips as she blinked heavily and looked up at them. Her eyes were black, the pupils blown so far there seemed to be no colour left at all. She shuddered again, trying to push up and away from the men leaning over her, baring her teeth as she squirmed.

"It's all right," Owen assured her, falling automatically into his bedside voice as he lay a hand on her shoulder. "You've been shot, but I'm going to fix it, okay?"

If Gwen understood his words, she didn't show it. Instead she growled, jerked away from his touch and then yelped in pain. The sound was far more human than anything else they'd heard from her so far and it made them all pause, giving her ample opportunity to twist free. She kicked out, one bare foot slamming into Jack's jaw and knocking him back, before leaping towards the window, shoving Owen out of the way as she went.

Ianto scrambled after her, but she launched herself through the window without any sign of hesitation, glass and wood exploding around her. He paused as she jumped, one arm flung up to protect his face from the debris, then hurried to the shattered frame and stuck his head through the hole.

"Is she okay?" Jack asked, rubbing gingerly at his jaw.

"She landed in the bushes," Ianto replied, turning back and making a dash for the door. "She's sort of jogging, but struggling," he added as he disappeared around the corner.

"Ianto, wait!" Jack pushed himself up from the floor again. They couldn't go running off half-cocked now, not when they still weren't entirely sure how to subdue Gwen, but Ianto ignored his call. Vexed by the younger man's sudden impetuousness, Jack holstered the gun he was still holding, then stooped to help Owen to his feet, intending to go right after Ianto.

Before he could move, however, Jack's eyes fell on Owen's shoulder. The doctor followed his gaze and pushed aside his jacket. Gwen's new claws had caught him across the collarbone, scoring a short, but deep, groove into the pale flesh. "Bugger," he grunted, prodding at the line of thick dark blood oozing to the surface. "I was hoping to go a bit longer without bleeding."

Jack stared at the wound, dread settling heavily in his stomach. His people kept getting hurt and he was having considerable trouble preventing it from happening. "What do you need?" he asked, picking up the medical kit and starting to pull things out of it.

"Hey, leave off!" protested Owen, snatching the bag back before Jack could empty the entire thing. "You're getting blood over everything!" He leaned down to retrieve the items Jack had dropped from the red puddle at their feet. "I just need to seal it, that's all."

"That's all?" Jack repeated dubiously. Granted he didn't know nearly as much about human physiology as Owen, but he knew a bleeding wound in a body that couldn't heal itself wasn't something to be ignored.

"Look, it's fine, I'll sort it," Owen snapped. "Let's just get after Gwen, okay? _Her_ injury is much worse than this."

* * *

She'd fallen into a jolting rhythm, half-running, half-limping, but always moving. She couldn't stop. The pain soared with each step she took, but danger lay close behind her now and if she didn't keep moving _they _would find her.

She was dying, she could feel it, the heat of her life soaking through her skin. She needed to find somewhere safe and quiet. She needed to curl up in peace and wait for fate to decide her future.

* * *

By the time Jack and Owen got outside the building, there was no sign of Gwen at all. Ianto was in the middle of turning the SUV around and motioned them quickly inside as he paused beside them.

"The blood leads this way," he explained, accelerating before the vehicle's doors were even fully closed.

"At least a wound should slow her down," Owen said from the back seat. He was rummaging through his bag as he spoke and Jack was torn between watching out the window for Gwen or looking back over his shoulder at him. "It might make her forget about avoiding the cameras too." He found what he was looking for and began pushing something Jack couldn't identify into the gash on his chest.

Satisfied Owen was in control, Jack managed to focus his full attention on the road ahead, just as Ianto reached a junction and brought the SUV to a screeching halt. "Can you see it?" the young man asked, craning his neck to look at the road ahead.

Jack jumped out and glanced around quickly at the ground. "Left!" he called, climbing back in and holding on tight as Ianto sped forward again. He opened his window and leaned out, shining his torch on the glistening trail of droplets and preparing to call out directions for the next junction, when he suddenly lost it. "Stop! Stop!" He flung himself out of the moving vehicle and ran back to find the blood again. He picked it up quickly, but it showed only that she'd stood there for a moment, the drops heavier and more localised.

Ianto pulled the SUV over to the curb and leapt out as well. "What's the matter?"

"She stopped here," Jack told him, flashing the torch beam around the small puddle. There were no clues there and he moved out further, expanding his search area. "Check that way." Ianto did as he was told and walked towards the opposite pavement, circle of light swaying back and forth before him, but it was Jack who found the trail again.

A hand-shaped smear of blood on a low garden wall told him Gwen had moved out of the road, suggesting her instincts to keep a low profile were very much intact, but her injury was preventing her from following through very well. "Over here," he called, tracing the smudges of red along until the wall gave way to the dark mouth of an alley. "Ah," he exclaimed to himself, turning back to the road.

Ianto was running towards him and over his shoulder Jack could see Owen climbing down from the SUV to join them. "Are you all right?" Jack asked, worried that Owen would neglect treating his wound properly in favour of helping them.

"It'll hold until we get back to the Hub." The doctor waved away Jack's concern and jogged past him. "Come on, she's bleeding out."

Jack looked to Ianto, even though he was just as powerless to stop Owen as the Captain himself. The young man merely shrugged and followed the lifeless medic into the narrow alley.

* * *

The other animals could see her now.

She was no longer able to creep past unnoticed as she'd done before, but fortunately it was still dark and there seemed to be few about. The first she encountered was just stepping out of his dwelling as she approached. He gave an exclamation of surprise when he saw her, hurrying forward with deceptive concern upon his face, but she snapped her teeth at him and he scampered fearfully back inside.

Then, some painful paces later when she burst from the shadowed warren, she came upon tangle of metal tubes amongst which moved a number of young, dangerous beasts.

They spotted her almost instantly, dropping glowing embers from their lips and turning to face her.

"What the fuck?" one asked, swaggering forward. "You okay, lady?"

She snarled, recognising them all as male, and crouched down slightly, simultaneously hiding her wound and feigning submission.

"Ugh, what's wrong with her?" another one cried in disgust. He shoved a hand out in front of his body and there was a blinding flash of light.

She gave a howl, blinking frantically to clear the glare from her eyes and darted for the edge of the metal jungle.

"Whoa, lady, no need to run," the pack leader said, jumping forward and trying to catch hold of her. "We just wanna take a look at you."

"And sell you to the fuckin' zoo," a voice muttered from the crowd.

She swiped at the hands reaching for her, keeping her distance as best she could, but there were just too many of them. More figures appeared on her other side, corralling her back as they chattered excitedly between themselves.

"She's bleeding."

"Fuck that, look at her skin!"

"Aw man, that's disgusting. I ain't touching that, shit's probably contagious."

"Shut up, Paz, that ain't no disease, it's her skin. I reckon we've just found ourselves an alien."

"No way!"

"Oh fuck yeah, that's it. That's it! She's a freakin' alien! This is way better than that metal thing Witman found."

"Shit, yeah, I'd forgotten about that. I still say he made that crap himself, but this, this is like, _real_, man."

"I can't wait to see his face! Send him a picture of 'er!"

The circle of voices were loud and brash, their assumption of dominance grinding in her ears, but they were distracted now by shining objects in their hands and she saw her chance for escape. Jumping forward, she slashed at the weakest member of the pack, dropping him to the ground with a cry of pain. Another grabbed at her, an arm encircling her neck, but she bit down hard on the limb and was free once more. The confusion left an opening and she dashed forward again, the pain of her injury lost in her desperation to flee to safety.

* * *

"Did you hear that?"

"That really loud yelling just now? Yeah I heard that."

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Of course, how stupid of me to ask."

Owen gave a flat laugh and they all picked up their pace. Jack was ahead now, leading the way unerringly through the darkness of the labyrinthine alleys, the light of his torch bouncing just about everywhere but on the path before him.

All of a sudden they were free of the narrow maze and found themselves instead in a small playground, illuminated by the same unearthly orange as the street they'd left behind. A gang of teenagers were there, a few clumped together and the rest stalking around in the road beyond, looking this way and that with jerky, angry motions.

"The fuck she go?" one hollered, the fury in his voice unmistakable.

"Well, we're on the right path then," Owen pointed out, before swerving towards the smaller group. "What up, kids?" he said. "Anyone hurt?"

"Who the hell are you?" came the immediate response and everyone swung around to stare at the newcomers.

"We're, uh..." Owen began, then amended his approach. "_I'm_ a doctor. So once again, anyone hurt?"

"It doesn't matter who we are," Jack added, jogging past them and out to the road. "But you just encountered something we're very interested in finding."

"Billy got cut bad," one of the youths told Owen, moving aside to show a short teen perched on the end of a metal slide. The boy's hoodie was in tatters, four parallel tears running diagonally from his left shoulder to right hip, with blood visible beneath when Owen shone his torch through the material.

"Looks worse than it is," he diagnosed. "But you need to get him to a hospital or it'll get infected." The doctor bent down and checked the teenager's eyes. "He's in shock, so don't expect him to talk yet. Anyone else?"

"Did you see which way she went?" Jack demanded. He was walking circles around the road, hunting for another drop of blood to tell him Gwen's direction.

The youths nearby eyed him suspiciously. "Did you not just hear me fuckin' ask that already?" one countered with a sneer. "If I knew I'd be taking that bitch down right now for hurting my boys."

Jack swung his torch up to shine directly at the speaker's face. "Didn't anyone ever tell you to respect your elders?"

The boy winced at the brightness but still managed to bark out a cruel laugh. "Ain't no one told you all bets are off once the invasion starts?"

"Invasion?" Ianto echoed. "What invasion?"

"_Aliens_, man. Fucking little grey bastards running around OUR city."

"Or sexy grey bitches," someone else added with a leer.

Jack caught Ianto's eye and the younger man shrugged. Jack frowned, beginning to suspect he was being less than helpful on purpose. It was clear he'd been rather unimpressed by Jack's method of saving their lives back at the flat, and if there was a better way the young man could protest than being petulant, Jack couldn't think of it.

As though reading the immortal's thoughts, Ianto turned away and pulled out his phone, the glow highlighting his solemn expression as he tapped something into the device. Jack huffed, starting to grow annoyed himself with Ianto's evident anger, but sorting that out would have to wait until after they'd captured Gwen again.

"She didn't do too much damage," Owen reported, leaving the boys and returning to Jack's side. "Do we know which way she went?"

The Captain rolled his eyes. "Of course. That's why I'm standing here doing nothing."

"Geez, all right," Owen bit out. "I was just asking."

"She's heading north," Ianto announced. He waved his phone at them. "The social networks just lit up."

* * *

Tosh paused outside the door, listening to the faint sound of movement on the other side before she knocked gently and pushed it open. "Rhys?"

The Welshman was sitting on the edge of the low bed, bent over as he tried to lace his shoes with slightly trembling fingers. He sat up quickly at her arrival then groaned, touching his forehead in evident pain. "Ugh," he said. "Remind me to stop doing that."

"Are you okay?"

"Besides the dizziness and the jackhammer going to town in my head? Yeah, I'll live." He rolled his shoulders, stretching out his muscles, and then whipped his head back around, suddenly alert. "Did they find Gwen?"

Tosh bit her lip. "No, not yet. But they're getting close. The Doctor and I are going to help them now, but I wanted to see if you needed anything before we leave?"

Rhys' eyes widened and he jumped to his feet. He staggered forward a bit but managed to catch himself before Tosh could react. "I'm coming with you."

"I don't think that's a good idea," she said, eyeing the swaying man before her. "You need to rest."

"I need to be with Gwen." Rhys glanced at his watch and groaned loudly. "I've been bloody resting for hours. Why didn't you wake me up earlier?"

Folding her arms over her chest, Tosh sighed. Why was every man she dealt with on a regular basis so stubborn? "_Because_," she growled, "you were hurt and you needed to damn well rest."

"Wha-" Rhys spluttered, blinking at her in shock.

The PDA in Tosh's pocket beeped urgently and she snatched it out, pleased to see that Gwen had finally passed near enough to a CCTV camera for the recognition software to pick her up. "Right, listen," she began, fixing a hard glare on the Welshman. "You can come with us, but you tell me immediately if you feel dizzy... _dizzier_, okay? And the minute we reach the others you'll have to answer to Owen."

Rhys, still off kilter from her abruptly commanding tone, cleared his throat and hesitantly reached for the jacket thrown over a nearby chair. "Okay?" he replied, uncertainty making a question out of his agreement.

"And do your laces up properly. If you fall over and hit your head again I'll leave you behind."

* * *

"Brilliant," Ianto said. "Okay we'll meet you ther-oh!" he interrupted himself. "Can you bring something with you? That pole we move the Weevils around with, it's probably down in the cells. Thanks!" He disconnected his comm. and turned to the pair beside him. "Tosh has her on the cameras now. She's heading towards Millfield Arcade."

They'd been running full pelt along the road, following the brief sightings that were being mentioned online, mostly via Twitter. A photo that had clearly been taken by the group of teens in the playground had been making the rounds for a while, but a few more were popping up now from some inquisitive night owls, helping the trio close the gap between themselves and their target.

No one had mentioned yet that they should have gone back for the SUV, though they all likely realised their folly in abandoning it so easily. Not even the chance to blame Jack for not ordering one of the others to stay with it and await orders could apparently overcome Ianto's silent ire at the immortal. Owen's anger was far more evident, his less-than-sunny disposition making it clear Jack was definitely not in his good books either. Of course Owen took most injuries against the team as a personal affront, but for one of them to purposefully hurt another... Needless to say, Jack wasn't looking forward to the next time he needed the dead man's doctorly assistance.

Now that they had an actual location to head towards, the three men started taking full advantage of their knowledge of the city and used every possible shortcut between themselves and the arcade. After ten minutes, and a few updates from Tosh to confirm Gwen was still heading in the same direction, they finally came within sight of the shopping centre.

It wasn't a terribly big affair, just two open levels of shops facing each other over a wide brick path. At that time of night it was mostly deserted, however there was both an all-night cafe and supermarket amongst the dark shops, meaning there were bound to be at least a few innocents close by.

They paused at the edge of the car park and assessed the situation, Ianto checking his phone whilst the other two peered through the pre-dawn gloom for signs of Gwen.

"Why would she come here?" Owen wondered aloud. "If she's hurt..." he paused and scowled, "actually I don't know what she'd do. Animals tend to hide, but I'd have thought this was too open for that."

"She probably has some memory of this place that instinctively brought her this way." Jack, unable to put it off any longer, withdrew his Webley and began reloading it. Both Owen and Ianto swung their heads around at the first metallic click, staring in disbelief at his actions.

"You are _not_ going to shoot her again," Owen growled.

The Captain continued steadily pushing in the fresh bullets. "I will do whatever necessary to minimise casualties."

"Ianto, tell him!" Owen turned on the younger man, which showed just how strongly he felt about the subject; anything less and he would have refused to admit the influence Ianto held with Jack.

The young Welshman gave a wry twitch of his lips and looked back to his phone. "I don't think that would stop him."

"Now you listen here," Owen ranted, facing Jack once again and levelling a finger at him. "You've done more than enough damage for one day, and quite frankly I don't know how she's stayed upright, let alone run around the city all night, so you are _not _going to harm another bloody hair on her head, you hear me?"

Jack drew in a deep breath and lifted dull eyes to meet Owen's. "If it looks like she'll hurt someone else, it's our duty to stop her."

"It's Gwen, for God's sake! How can you stand there and act so fucking cool about killing her?"

"How can you, _Doctor_ Harper, suggest we risk the lives of innocent bystanders by refusing to do the right thing?"

Owen childishly stamped his foot. "There's got to be another way!"

"There is and we're going to try and implement it. Didn't you hear Ianto asking Tosh for the Weevil pole?" Jack was attempting to keep his calm, but if Owen suggested once more that Jack intended to kill Gwen he would likely snap. "For crying out loud, it's not as though I plan to shoot her on sight."

Fortunately, before the medic could respond, headlights swept abruptly over the trio of men and a dark car pulled up beside them. Tosh, the Doctor, and a pale-looking Rhys tumbled out, the latter of which proved enough of a distraction for Owen to forget his tirade at Jack.

"What the hell is he doing out of bed?"

Tosh's flush was visible even in the gloomy car park, but she straightened herself resolutely against Owen's misdirected anger. "If we hadn't brought him with us, he'd have tried to get here on his own."

Jack physically turned Tosh away from the irate man, squeezing her shoulder in reassurance as he did so. "Ignore him. What have you got?" he asked, eyeing the tablet in her hand.

"Right," she said, glancing at Owen once more before lifting the screen and flicking it on. "I thought we could do with some help in the dark." The display flashed to life, revealing an infrared aerial view of their clustered bodies and the burning vehicle beside them. Tosh adjusted the settings and the image shrank, bringing other shapes and colours into view.

"How on earth did you get that?" Ianto asked, as they all crowded around to look.

Tosh giggled faintly, still fiddling with the tablet. "I got a few satellites realigned." She shrugged, as though it was no big deal. "It made sense in the long run, especially as the goggles would be useless in all this artificial light."

Jack nodded in approval, grateful for her logical thinking. "Good work, Tosh. So do you know where she is now?"

"Well, I saw her a few minutes ago over here, by these old storage buildings," she replied, manipulating the image to show a set of large squares that barely registered on the infrared. "It looked like she was trying to avoid the car park."

"I don't see any heat over there."

"No," Tosh murmured, shifting the satellite view along again. "Let me just...maybe over he-" A beep stopped her muttering and she swiped at the screen, scrolling it quickly to a single blob of red and white. "There, that's her."

"How can you tell?" Rhys asked, squinting at the indistinguishable shape.

"She's showing a higher body temperature than everyone else." Tosh glanced up and gave a small smirk at her companions. "Present company excluded, I mean."

Jack matched her smile, recalling the first image she'd shown them. It was possible that no one else had picked up on it, but he'd certainly seen the three figures glowing ever so slightly brighter than the rest of the group. Or a lot brighter, compared to Owen's cool blue signature.

Jack glanced to the side, curious to see if Ianto had noticed his own above-average temperature. The younger man's brow was creased, but it wasn't clear what he was thinking about, especially as Jack couldn't rule out that it was still residual anger at Gwen's shooting. He certainly didn't look up beneath the weight of Jack's eyes, which he would almost always react to in normal circumstances, leading the Captain to believe that, whether Ianto had seen it or not, he was not going to give Jack the satisfaction of silently comparing notes on the matter.

"Right, so it looks like she's stopped at the rear of those shops," Jack said, deciding that pointing out another change in Ianto's body probably wasn't the best idea right then. "We're going to split into two teams, one will approach from this side, whilst the other cuts through the centre and waits at the far end. When she sees the first team and runs it'll drive her right into our path."

"And you really think a bit of wire can hold her?" Owen asked. From the suspicion in his eyes he fully expected Jack to suggest deadly force instead.

The immortal sighed. "She's injured and weak-" he began, only to be interrupted by a spluttering Rhys.

"She's _what_?" he cried. "Injured? What the fuck happened?"

"She's fine," Jack assured him, giving a careless wave that did nothing to calm the older Welshman. "She's far stronger than Owen is giving her credit for."

The medic narrowed his eyes at that. He folded his arms across his chest and, without looking away from the Captain, announced, "Jack shot her."

"WHAT?" Rhys exploded, jumping forward even as he shouted, forgetting that the woman he was so valiantly defending was hiding somewhere close by.

The Doctor, who had been alarmingly quiet up until then, stepped in to keep Rhys from leaping onto Jack. "Hang on just a minute," he said, tone reasonable in spite of the wary look he was giving Jack.

"He _shot_ my _fiancée_," Rhys snarled through gritted teeth. He struggled against the surprisingly strong alien's grip. "I'll fucking kill him!"

"And I'm sure no one will stop you doing so after we're done here," the Doctor suggested.

"We do rather need him for the time being," agreed Ianto, shrugging apologetically at the irate man. "At least until Gwen's safely back in the Hub."

"Look," Jack snapped, beginning to feel rather put out at everyone's willingness to believe he'd done the wrong thing. "We can argue about this all you want later on. For now, shut the hell up and do as I say or we risk losing her again."

The others did indeed shut up, alerted to the immortal's darkening mood by his infrequent, albeit mild, cursing.

"Right," he went on, glad to see they would still defer to him when it counted, "I want you three to go behind the shops." He fixed his remaining teammates with a solemn gaze. "Don't rush her, don't try anything clever. If you get a clear shot, try and tranq her. She should be more susceptible to it now, but if she comes at you, just run okay? Try and lead her towards us and we'll nab her with the pole and get you another chance." The trio nodded as one, expressions hardening as they realised the level of risk in the imminent confrontation. "I want open comms. at all times and at _any _sign of trouble you're to get as far away as possible, understood?"

Again more serious nods, but Jack doubted they'd follow his last order regardless of the danger. There was no real point in reiterating it however; they'd ignore him no matter how many times he said it. He turned to the other two men, faintly amused to find the Doctor was still positioned between Rhys and himself. It was actually quite warming to know the Time Lord wasn't entirely adverse to showing he held some real respect for Jack. So many times he'd seemed aloof to the Captain's problems, concealing any concern he might have beneath quips and voiceless action, but every now and then he acknowledged the rare bond they shared as two of the very few long-lived beings to currently inhabit the universe.

But of course now really wasn't the time to become sentimental just because the Doctor had kept him from being mauled by a raving Welshman. Jack gave himself a mental shake and fell back into the moment. "We'll go through the centre," he told them. "And you'll both stay behind me at all times. If she comes at me, let me handle it. If she comes at you, let me handle it." Rhys opened his mouth, presumably to protest, and Jack cut him off before he could say a word. "This is _not_ negotiable."

Rhys quelled with only a murderous glare and a click of his jaw as he snapped it shut again.

* * *

Tosh switched off her comm. and glanced across at Ianto. "Why did Jack shoot her?" she asked, murmuring so his earpiece wouldn't pick up her voice.

He clicked his off as well, then looked over to make sure Owen was far enough away that his wouldn't catch the conversation either. The medic waved for him to continue, stepping further to the side for their benefit, despite the unhappy set of his jaw at being unable to contribute.

"We cornered Gwen in her flat," Ianto explained. "It was close quarters, she was shaking off everything we threw at her and Jack shot her when she moved to attack us." He didn't really want to discuss the event, confused and a little disturbed by what had happened, but it really wasn't fair to ignore Tosh's question when she was just as worried as he was about Gwen.

She was quiet for a bit, mulling his words over. "Were you or Owen in danger?"

"We all were, technically," Ianto agreed slowly, recognising the argument she was heading towards. "But I'm sure we could have subdued her another way if given a little more time."

Tosh made a dubious face. "I saw what she did to Jack." Her voice shook with just the memory of it. "I saw the damage those claws can do. If Jack thought it was the only option, I'm willing to believe him."

Owen snorted from Ianto's other side and he shot a warning glare at the doctor. "He could have killed her," Ianto pointed out. "Jack can't kill Gwen. Imagine what it would do to him."

Once again Tosh fell silent for a minute, brow furrowed in thought. "What would you have done, if he wasn't immortal and you had the gun?"

Ianto didn't respond. He'd known the answer to that long before Tosh had even been aware of Gwen's shooting. Though he was loath to say it aloud, he would have done precisely the same thing to protect Jack, and there would have been no guarantee that he'd have done as good a job at avoiding vital organs as the Captain.

From the corner of his eye he noticed Owen waving pointedly at them and Ianto gave a silent thanks to fate for saving him from having to answer the rather awkward question. He turned his comm. back on in time to catch the last of Jack's words.

"-position. Any sign of Gwen?"

Both men looked to Tosh who was consulting her tablet again. "I'm showing her about fifty metres ahead."

"Right. Remember, no heroics."

They'd been keeping to the shadows beside the long row of buildings, navigating skips, dumpsters and precarious stacks of soggy old boxes by the reflected light from the car park behind them. So far everything had seemed a little surreal, but now Tosh had put a distance on Gwen, it once again struck home that they were approaching a threat which could easily take their lives and the pressure seemed to increase tenfold.

Ianto checked the cartridges in his Tazer were loaded properly and saw Owen do the same with his tranquiliser gun. Tosh hadn't looked away from the tablet but Ianto knew she had a gun beneath her jacket as well. Hopefully she wouldn't need to use it, though it was clear now she would do so if necessary. He held his torch in his free hand, finger poised over the switch and began to focus on his breathing to calm his thumping heart.

Each time they came up against Gwen she seemed stronger, more feral, and he worried that soon it would be too late to bring her back from the animal she was becoming. Should they even be able to capture her in the first place. There were, of course, some methods they had yet to attempt, but they required time to set up that couldn't be spared, especially not considering the speed at which Gwen was moving around the city. If they were unable to subdue her this time, Ianto wondered if they'd be forced to simply continue chasing her until she bled out from her wound.

"I remember this place," Rhy's distant voice said, floating through Jack's comm. to their own. "We used to come here sometimes when we were first dating. Course it was nicer then, bit run down now, but fine to waste an afternoon before the pubs opened up or a film started."

"That's bloody brilliant," declared Owen, surprising Ianto with his enthusiasm. "She must still have her memories, if she's visiting places she knew way before all this happened."

They could hear Jack relaying Owen's words to his companions then the Doctor's voice took over. "Changing her DNA wouldn't just rid her of those memories. She's still in there, you know, just battling the dominating urges of her new genetic make up. It's really quite fascinating to think-"

Owen hissed suddenly under his breath and all three stopped, peering ahead into the gloom and ignoring the voice babbling in their ears. There was a soft sound of rustling and then a figure was visible for just a second, shadowed against the ever-so-slightly lightening sky.

A look passed between them, reaffirming their plan, and they crept closer, painfully conscious of every sound they made. It became clear as they grew nearer that Gwen was somewhere behind a large dumpster, making their approach easier for the cover it gave them. Owen took the lead, edging towards the metal corner with the others close on his heels.

Ianto held his breath, mind sparking with the memory of swinging claws and leaking blood, but his fear barely had a chance to make its presence known before Owen was stepping around the corner, torch snapping on. Taking his cue, Ianto flipped on his as well and in the converged beams of light they found Gwen stooping amidst a pile of crushed empty boxes.

She looked far worse for wear than when they'd found her back at the flat, her clothes dirty now as well as covered with blood, her hair a tangled mess littered with leaves. In the torchlight her dry scaly skin was almost white whilst her eyes seemed darker than ever. She bared her teeth but made no sign of moving, caught unawares between the urge to flee or fight.

The scene was frozen for a long breathless second and then Owen thumbed off the safety on his weapon, the sound piercing in the tense silence. Gwen's entire body swayed forward a fraction as she shifted her weight, eyes narrowing now against the light.

Ianto knew in that instant she'd come to a decision, but he wasn't going to let it be the final one she made.

The rasp of leather from behind told him Tosh had drawn her gun and he quickly lifted the hand holding his Tazer. Without warning, he swung it to the side, banging the side of his fist hard against the metal container, three times, fast and loud.

The noise startled everyone, Owen and Tosh swinging around to stare in bewilderment at him, but he ignored them, watching with grim satisfaction instead as Gwen span around and ran away.

* * *

The Doctor finally stopped waxing lyrical on the wonders of observing DNA alteration first hand and Jack sighed in relief. He was grateful the Time Lord had actually stuck around for so long to help, but honestly, if he got going on a subject that interested him, it was really rather difficult to make him stop.

Jack smiled faintly as he realised the reason for the sudden hush was because the alien was now looking around himself with undisguised fascination. There wasn't much to see amongst the darkened shop windows, yet it was evidently enough to capture the Doctor's attention. Then Jack slid his eyes the other way and found Rhys staring directly at him.

The anger was still plain to see within the other man's entire being, but it was tempered by the fear of Gwen's possible demise. Jack marveled at the emotions so clear upon the Welshman's face, at the mortal's willingness to simply wear his heart on his sleeve and damn the consequences. Jack had spent so many years carefully guarding his feelings and making sure that people only saw what he allowed them that the idea of exposing himself in such a way had become an alien concept so far from his comfort zone that it barely warranted contemplation.

And yet, as he watched the mix of panic, need, worry and love flash across Rhy's features, he began to wonder (not for the first time, admittedly) why he'd made that decision so early on in his life. After all, he still _felt_, that had never changed, it was merely the way he treated those emotions that he'd deliberately altered. The intention had always been to spare himself from the torment that came from losing those he cared about, and whilst he'd never been sure what might have sparked that particular notion, he had always felt it was the right thing to do.

Because of that choice in his youth, growing up had been easy and carefree, embracing each new experience then moving on without a care for the repercussions. Of course there had been the odd exception, both before and after his immortality, but the fallout from those instances, when invariably he was left alone by either choice or death, simply reaffirmed the belief that keeping an emotional distance was far safer for all concerned.

Rhys was frowning at the scrutiny under which Jack had him and it looked like he was about to question the attention. Jack quickly forced his gaze out into the second car park they'd discovered at the opposite end of the parade to continue his mulling uninterrupted. If his lifelong approach worked so well, why did he end up questioning it every few decades?

Those exceptions, those few individuals who had been able to get under his skin, had all made his resolve bow and opened him up wide to the hurt he'd wanted to avoid. The last had been Lucia and after all the strain that relationship had entailed, especially the tense situation with their daughter, Jack had been convinced more than ever that he was doing the right thing. For a time after Lucia everything had been good. He'd balanced the freedom of being a mere underling at Torchwood with the enjoyment of exploring everything Earth had to offer as he waited for the Doctor's return.

Then, on the Millennium, when things had inevitably shifted, he'd found himself in charge of an empty Hub and a Rift that continued to spit out undesirable and dangerous objects and lifeforms at an alarming rate.

When eventually he'd built up the team once again, he'd believed everything would return to normal, but the cracks started to show almost immediately and the personalities of his subordinates crashed against the wall he'd built around his emotions. He fought the urge to interact with them on too personal a level and willingly turned a blind eye to some of their more irresponsible behaviour. Then PC Cooper had stuck her nose in, Suzie had snapped under the pressure and Jack had fallen into a downward spiral that could hold only pain at the bottom.

The Captain drew in a shaky breath. Such deep introspection really had no place in his mind at that particular moment in time. That was something to fill the nights between losses when he filled his glass a few more times than usual. It was going to do Gwen no good at all if he was trapped beneath the crippling awareness of impossible wishes and eternal disappointment when he needed to be focused on capturing her in one piece.

Jack laughed inwardly at himself worrying about Gwen's safety when he'd just acknowledged her as the spark that'd started everything crumbling down. Not that it would stop him doing his utmost to save her, (again, he didn't _not_ feel), but the irony was not lost on him that he be distracted by such existential thoughts at such a time.

The loud crash of metal made him jump, all thoughts of his emotional troubles lost as he span around, gun raised, seeking the source of the noise. A second later he realised it was coming through the comm. in his ear and he shot a wry look at his companions, who were both staring at him as though he were mad. "Report!" he demanded, turning back to the car park and the corner around which he knew Gwen would appear if the others were successful in driving her ahead of them.

There was the crackling of movement, a few muttered profanities, then, "What the fuck did you do that for?"

Owen, and sounding particularly pissed off at that, but if he was able to rant that could mean only good things.

"She was going to attack," Ianto responded. "I thought it best to discourage her."

"I had a clear shot."

A sigh of irritation. "Well you should've taken it quicker then, because she was on the verge of jumping at us."

"What happened?" Jack asked. The picture was gradually clearing, but if he let the two men continue arguing he'd never get the full story.

"We surprised Gwen and it looked like she wasn't sure what to do." Tosh was speaking now, whilst the other two bickered in the background. "I'm assuming Ianto saw her move because he scared her off before she could attack."

"She wasn't going to give in without a fight," agreed the young Welshman. "She's nearly at your end now, so get ready."

"Got it." Jack stepped out further from the line of shops and waved for the others to follow. "She's on her way. We're going to need to keep her from slipping past otherwise we might not have the chance to corner her again." He pointed them to suitable positions, away from immediate danger but still close enough to help if necessary. Meanwhile he hefted the long pole he'd retrieved from Tosh's car and made sure the loop of wire was loose enough.

A shout heard through both his comm. and the air alerted him just as Gwen flung herself around the corner of the building and aimed for the dark line of trees at the other side of the car park. The three waiting men surged into action, moving in one fluid line to cut her off and steer her back towards the trio chasing behind.

Jack's eyes swept over Gwen quickly, assessing her even as he ran with the others to block her path. She wasn't in a good state, her clothes covered in blood and her movements awkward and erratic, but she was still moving and still fighting the inevitable, which showed promise at least that she would be more than strong enough to survive the wound. Provided they managed to catch her without any other incidents...

She saw the three men ahead of her across the expanse of concrete, but didn't slow and Jack immediately drew his Webley, sending a shot into the sky that brought the ferocious woman to a stumbling halt.

"Gwen!" Rhys called out, making a panicked dash for her even as he glared over his shoulder at Jack, clearly thinking he'd shot her again.

The Captain rolled his eyes. "Don't get too close," he warned, not bothering to point out his innocence.

Rhys ignored him, running towards her with his hands outstretched. If Gwen had allowed him to reach her, there was no telling what damage would've been done, but her survival instincts took over and she jumped away, keeping as much distance between herself and her enemies as possible. Instead, however, of turning back towards the perceived safety at the darkened rear of the shops, where Ianto, Owen and Tosh were ready to drive her into their ever-closing net, she darted in the opposite direction and made a beeline for the better-lit brick pathway.

"Shit!" Owen declared succinctly, summing up Jack's feelings on the matter perfectly. He hadn't expected her to head away from the shadows, considering her avoidance so far of brighter areas, but he wasn't precisely surprised that one of his assumptions concerning Gwen turned out to be wrong.

On the other hand, the change in direction meant she was leading them into a tighter space and it would actually serve them better to chase her down where there was less gaps through which she could slip. The two trios came together as they chased after their erstwhile companion, exchanging glances to make sure the other team was unharmed.

Gwen was still keeping up a good pace ahead of them, but she was noticeably struggling, favouring her left side where she'd been wounded. She glanced back and, finding the distance between them was closing fast, veered off towards the lights of the cafe halfway along the line of shops.

Jack cursed under his breath. There would be people in there, witnesses and possible casualties, and he'd wanted to avoid such factors when trying to corner Gwen in her desperate state. The immortal Captain looked back along the parade, measuring the distances in his mind. There was no time to send the others around to the rear of the building, so they had to hope she wouldn't have a chance to get through and out the back before they could catch up.

Gwen crashed through the swinging doors and immediately yells of alarm could be heard from within. The six pursuers were at the doors a few seconds later, paying no heed to any plan at all as they surged into the small, grimy cafe without pausing.

The scene they found inside suggested a tiny tornado had swept through the room, upending tables and sending what appeared to be every possible breakable item in the place to the floor. One man lay slumped against one wall, alive but unconscious, whilst another younger male cowered by the counter, sobbing and clutching a blood-soaked arm to his chest.

"Where is she?" Jack demanded, even as he hurried past the crying youth. There was really only one direction in which Gwen could have gone; he doubted she'd get caught in the dead-end hallway where the restrooms were, which left only the kitchen, accessible through a wide doorway behind the counter.

If the young man had any intention of responding, Jack didn't wait around to catch it, convinced he was right in his assessment. He burst through the next set of doors and immediately stopped sharply in surprise. Owen crashed into his back with a curse and then, from behind him, Rhys could be heard asking, "What is it? Is she there?"

Gwen was indeed there, poised in the middle of the narrow kitchen and facing off against a heavyset woman in a greasy apron, wielding a very large, very dirty knife and an irate expression upon her florid face.

The woman's eyes slid across to Jack and her features twisted into further indignation. "And who the hell are you now?" she cried, obviously a little put out at all the interlopers in her cafe that night. "Is this your doing?" she went on, waving her knife to indicate Gwen's hunched form.

"Just stay calm," Jack said as evenly as he could, attempting a suave grin and receiving only a scowl in response. "We're just going to take our friend and be on our way, okay?" As he spoke he moved to grasp the pole in both hands, hoping to take advantage of Gwen's close proximity and the distraction provided by the unhappy cook.

"Damn pranks," the large woman ranted. "You're too bleedin' old to be running around trying to scare people like this." She stepped forward, gesturing wildly with her blade.

Owen, now by Jack's side, held out a placating hand. "Don't move," he warned. "She's dangerous." As though on cue, Gwen growled in her throat and moved slightly, adjusting her weight in favour of her injured side.

The cook rolled her eyes. "Oh for God's sake, I'm not going to be scared by some make up and fake blood." She took another step forward, glaring at Gwen as though she could intimidate the grey woman into dropping the act.

Jack, meanwhile, was edging closer to Gwen from behind, lifting the end of the pole towards her head. He held his breath, alternating his attention between the debris-scattered floor and the subtle clues of impending attack in Gwen's body. He could see from the corner of his eye that Owen was aiming his tranquiliser gun at Gwen and hoped the medic wouldn't try to shoot her before Jack got the loop in place. He didn't dare try to signal his colleague, too close now to Gwen to risk any unnecessary sound or movement.

In the end it wasn't Owen's haste or Jack's approach that set what followed in motion. It wasn't even the actions of anyone in the kitchen, but rather a howl of pain from the room behind them that entirely shattered the delicate stand-off.

Jack would later discover that Ianto and the Doctor had been trying to help the wounded young man, who had gone from a state of catatonia to hysterics at the lightest touch on his crushed arm. At the time, however, all he heard was a desperate wail before everything descended into bedlam.

The cook's head whipped towards the door, her attention no longer on the people before her, and the knife in her hand unintentionally moved in a motion that could be interpreted as threatening. Gwen, at bay and desperate, clearly decided she was through with fleeing and lunged forward instead with a snarl.

Jack had actually just managed to get the loop into place and dropped it the exact moment she moved, so that it fell about her neck as planned, but the abruptness of her jump yanked the pole from his hands. Unbalanced, he fell forward into the space she'd just vacated and was thus directly in Owen's sights just as he pulled the trigger.

The dart embedded itself in Jack's shoulder with only just enough pain for him to know it was there; he'd certainly experienced far worse sensations in the past, and had it been a normal projectile there would've been no concern about it affecting his mobility. The fact that he now had a powerful sedative flooding into his bloodstream, however, meant he was about to become very useless, very quickly.

"Oh bollocks!" Owen cried. He rushed to the immortal and snatched the dart free, but it was entirely futile and served only to knock the already weakening Captain to his knees.

"Ssstop her," Jack slurred, furious that Owen was trying to help him when Gwen was dragging the cook to the floor right in front of them. The woman was putting up a fight, shouting and waving her knife around, though it was evidently without any real conscious thought. The blade occasionally caught Gwen, but there wasn't enough strength or knowledge in the blows to make more than a few tiny cuts in her strange scale-like skin.

"How?" retorted Owen, even as he shoved off from Jack and caused him to slump further down to the tiles below. The rest of question was obvious, even going unspoken: _'How, without you?'_

The immortal blinked quickly, alarmed by the rate at which his sight was blurring. "Rhys," he croaked, but the Welshman was one step ahead of him, already scrambling to take hold of the pole hanging from Gwen's neck.

It took a few attempts for him to get a firm grasp on it, thanks to his fiancée's violent movements, and when he finally got there and moved back again, his touch was far too gentle to dislodge her. He clearly feared harming her, but such sentiment had no place in that kitchen, not when Gwen's clawed hands could clearly be seen slashing now at the other woman's body.

Then Owen was at Rhys' side, adding his grip to the pole, and they pulled together. Gwen rocked back, but still clung resolutely onto her foe, her arms moving in wilder, more violent swipes, splashes of blood flying from her claws to paint the dull white cupboards that ran along the side of the room. The cook's shouts became pained and her knife clattered forgotten to the floor.

"Gwen, please," Rhys begged desperately. He started to shuffle along the pole, still pulling at her but getting closer as though to reach out to her.

Owen grunted and began to fiddle one-handedly at his jacket. "Don't draw her attention, you idiot," he snarled. "She'll kill you." His expression turned triumphant for a moment as he withdrew a new dart from an inner pocket, then he glanced over his shoulder to where Jack was crumpled against the wall, entirely immobile now and only just holding onto consciousness.

The Captain dragged his attention from Gwen's horrific actions to meet Owen's eyes, seeing within them the bones of his plan. He'd dropped the tranquiliser gun when he'd gone to help Jack, and clearly had no intention of risking the same mistake he'd made before by using it again.

Jack tried to protest the idea, tried to open his mouth to speak, but his muscles refused to obey him, and just as the darkness that had been steadily consuming his vision finally triumphed over his stubbornness, he was left with the final image of Owen throwing himself forward, dart held aloft, and Gwen twisting upon the now-still cook to meet his attack.


	19. Chapter 18

Seated upon a bench at the edge of the car park, close to where the group had congregated before approaching Gwen, Ianto had a perfect view of the circus currently taking place around the shopping centre. He was entirely safe from any eagle-eyed police officers standing guard on the perimeter, having earlier shot out the street lamp beside the seat, and therefore confident enough to simply sit there in the open and watch.

The dingy parade of shops was now bright with the colourful flashing lights of copious emergency vehicles and the early morning hush broken by calls between the various response teams as they worked to solve the mystery found in the late-night cafe. It was a study in needless chaos, no one individual willing to take charge of the bigger picture, thus leaving each team to do their own jobs without coordinating with anyone else.

Ianto sighed. As much as it went against his aversion to such disarray, he couldn't help but feel relieved to see how bewildered the city's police officers could become under certain circumstances. Of course, to give them their due, Torchwood would normally have swept in by now to take over the peculiar crime scene, meaning the police wouldn't have been required to struggle for so long. Unfortunately there had been no choice but for the team to completely remove themselves from the situation before anyone else had arrived, and so the crime was to become the police force's full responsibility this time.

Having finally managed to subdue Gwen, they'd quickly realised they needed to get out of there before anyone caught sight of her, but in doing so they would be taking a huge risk leaving everything up in the air. Usually there would've been a thorough clean up and a perfectly believable cover story set in place to appease the responding officers, but with Jack out for the count and Gwen still bleeding heavily, they'd been severely limited on options. The decision had been made to simply exit through the rear of the building and leave the door wide open behind them. Tosh had made a 999 call as they were gathering up their equipment and claimed to have seen a wild animal of some sort prowling the area, and then Ianto had called a few minutes later to request an ambulance at the cafe before purposefully dropping the connection when he was required to give details. If things went to plan, the police would link the sighting to the bloodbath in the kitchen and the subsequent hunt would be for a creature instead of a murderer.

The loose ends made Ianto's marginal OCD shudder. The first man in the cafe, who had been unconscious when they'd arrived, had fallen near the door and they theorised he'd been thrown aside almost the instant Gwen had passed through the entrance. They were counting on the knock to his head to take away, or at least make him doubt, any memory he might have of being attacked by her.

The youth, however, was a different matter. He had been conscious, but catatonic, and although he'd reacted to the pain of Ianto's touch, he hadn't been lucid enough to speak. Even if, when he came out of his shocked state, he remembered and relayed to the police a description of the true perpetrator, it was entirely possibly that they'd think it due to the stress and trauma he'd suffered. But of course leaving it to chance was not Torchwood's usual approach.

Ianto made a mental note to check on both men later that day. If necessary he would Retcon them, relieving them of the pressure of such a horrific experience, but right now he had to make sure that no one at the scene started asking the wrong kinds of questions.

His phone was held loosely in his left hand, a murmur of voices emerging from it as he listened, via one of Tosh's clever programs, to the radio chatter from the crime scene. He wasn't entirely sure what he could _do_ should they stray too close to the truth, but simply being aware of their movements was better than nothing. At the very least he could warn Tosh (presuming she was still tied up helping everyone else and wasn't eavesdropping herself) and have her try to misdirect them somehow.

Ianto's right hand was likewise employed keeping an eye on things, wrapped as it was around the wrist of the man slumped beside him, fingertips resting over the steady - if slow - throb of the Captain's pulse. He and Tosh had moved Jack from the cafe to the bench using her car, then she'd left them there as she returned to pick up the others and take them to the Hub. There hadn't been room for everyone to fit into the vehicle and, as it was far more important that Gwen get treatment for her wounds, Ianto had insisted that Tosh get the others back whilst he waited for Jack to wake up.

Owen had dosed Jack with a stimulant before leaving and left another prepped syringe behind, which was currently tucked away in a pocket so Ianto wouldn't have to look at it. He wasn't entirely thrilled by the idea of injecting anything into anyone, much less when Jack had so many substances in his system already. Even though he knew that, _theoretically_, he shouldn't be afraid of killing the immortal man, that didn't mean he especially wanted to be responsible for another one of his deaths. But Owen had given instructions that if, after an hour, Jack's pulse hadn't increased, Ianto needed to give him the second stimulant or there could be complications.

It had been fifty-six minutes so far and the throb beneath Ianto's fingers had remained consistent throughout.

Ianto's mind began to shy away from the impending task, turning instead to the events of the day. He'd been awake for almost twenty-four hours and with everything that had happened in that time, he was understandably exhausted, both physically _and_ mentally. Naturally his concern for Gwen was at the top of the list of reasons why, but that was linked now to a new concern for Jack. Before, he had feared how Jack would cope if Gwen died, however that had developed now into thoughts of what would happen if she died because of what Jack did to her.

Ianto was unwillingly thrust back into the memory of facing down the monster his first true love had become, knowing he had to stop her no matter the cost but being too scared to lose her to pull the trigger. Back at the flat, Jack had unsurprisingly proven to be stronger than Ianto, and had shot Gwen without hesitation. He could imagine the guilt that would later hit the older man, partly because he felt a lot of it himself: he regretted Jack having to protect him in that way, but he felt even worse for thinking, even as he recalled the mayhem in the flat, that there was something positive to be found in the Captain's actions.

Indulgent as it may seem, Ianto was unable to stop himself viewing the situation as Jack rating Ianto's safety higher than the risk of irreparably harming Gwen. He didn't understand it, couldn't quite wrap his head around Jack's ability to hurt someone he loved, but it was very difficult not to see it that way, especially considering Ianto's recent vain battle against the hope that Jack _did_ think him more important.

For the first time in months, ever since Jack's return from his trip with the Doctor, Ianto allowed himself to take a proper look at the contrary evidence he'd been purposefully ignoring. Whether it was because something had happened whilst Jack was away, or because he'd returned to find Gwen engaged to Rhys, the fact remained that Jack's behaviour towards Gwen had altered from the first year of their acquaintance. The affection was still there, but the lust was far less obvious, as proven by his acceptance of Rhys into the secret fold after he'd discovered the truth about Torchwood.

No matter how diplomatic Gwen might think herself, there would've been no way for her to force the Captain to let Rhys keep his memories. Not if Jack truly hadn't wanted to. It was clearly out of respect for her feelings for Rhys that he did it; not only showing his faith in their bond by allowing the risk to remain, but also foregoing a perfect opportunity to drive a wedge between the couple, were he so maliciously inclined. But he had allowed it, submitting to Gwen not to get into her good books, but because he realised she needed to stop keeping that particular secret from Rhys. He had given his approval of their relationship by simply allowing the Welshman to retain his memories.

In the long run, in Ianto's opinion, it made perfect sense. Jack didn't do serious relationships, so although he had fixated upon Gwen in the early days, it was really the best thing for him to relinquish his desire and let her strengthen the connection she held with Rhys. It was logical and Ianto agreed with it in theory, but he wasn't sure how Jack could suppress his emotions so easily. Ianto wasn't a very open person himself, but he found it hard to feign nonchalance for long; a fact that was starting to become obvious in his recent dealings with Jack.

It was good that Jack had been able to release Gwen from the strange dance that'd been taking place between them, but the fact that he _had_ done so only made Ianto all the more confused. Mainly because if Jack had been 'moved on' since he got back from his trip, then all the additional intimacy between himself and Jack made little sense. Ianto had originally believed that, in light of Gwen's engagement, Jack was trying to push aside his feelings for her by burying it beneath the physical, especially as the discovery of their complementing 'kinks' was an ideal distraction for him to focus upon. But if the attempt to forget Gwen wasn't the cause of the increased time spent together and the heightened connection to each other...well in any other situation, with any other lover, Ianto would've read that as a sign things were getting serious.

Ianto closed his eyes. Why was he tormenting himself? It was what it was. They were close, they had a fantastic physical relationship and they could trust each other to satisfy certain (and not always sexual) needs. That was good, right? Sure, there was the fear that someone else would catch Jack's eye and it would all be over, but then wasn't that the case with everyone? The only difference was Ianto's additional fear that revealing the true depth of his feelings would scare Jack off, instead of it simply being because another party had drawn the Captain away.

The mental timer in Ianto's mind clicked over onto the hour and he reached for the syringe with a sigh. He wondered idly if simply coming clean and admitting that he _may_ feel a bit more towards the older man than he let on would rid him of all the inner turmoil that had recently been disturbing him. He could explain, apologise, and then promise the immortal that in spite of those troublesome emotions, he didn't want to change the dynamic between them. And that would be the truth as well; it was the strain of having to watch his words and behaviour that was wearing Ianto down, not the desire to constantly exchange sickening platitudes or hold hands in public.

Ianto heaved Jack's dead weight to the side until he was leaning up against the arm of the bench and began to unbuckle his belt. Owen had given Jack the first injection directly into a vein, but Ianto's lack of knowledge in that area (not to mention his general dislike for the entire process) meant he'd left instructions that the second injection go into a muscle that Ianto couldn't miss. As he struggled to tug the unconscious man's trousers down, Ianto chided himself for the false resolve his thoughts had produced. Just like practising a conversation in one's head late at night, determined to make it happen the next day, Ianto simply wasn't going to come out and say any such thing to Jack. He knew he wouldn't be able to do it, at least not without some serious prompting, and that weakness on his part was possibly more frustrating than anything else about the entire matter.

He grunted with the effort of pulling Jack's trousers down whilst the older man was in such an awkward position and silently thanked his forethought to take out the light above them; if anyone saw him doing this they'd probably think he was a pervert accosting the unconscious man. When enough of Jack's thigh was visible, Ianto stopped and slid a hand over bare skin to feel the muscles beneath. He'd done similar examinations in the past in the bedroom, enjoying the sensation of power as his lover's limbs moved and flexed under his touch, but now it felt incredibly strange to be touching Jack when he was completely insentient. He traced the outer line of Jack's thigh, mapping the vastus lateralis until he was confident he was in the right place. He ran a sterile wipe over the area, then uncapped the syringe and pushed the needle into the other man's flesh.

He grimaced, feeling phantom pains in his own body and physically shuddering as he pushed the plunger all the way down. When it could go no further Ianto froze, one hand holding the syringe in Jack's leg and the other gripping the flesh around it. He had half expected Jack to jolt awake, as though coming back to life, but the other man didn't move at all. Ianto released the breath he'd been holding and eased the needle free, frowning a little at the anti-climax. Owen hadn't said it would work immediately but he'd kind of hoped it would be that easy.

After pressing a piece of cotton wool down over the red spot he'd made, Ianto replaced the cap on the syringe and tucked it away into his pocket, fishing out his phone again at the same time. He didn't especially want to disturb the others - they were obviously still trying to deal with their own problems if they hadn't contacted him yet - but Owen hadn't said what to do if Jack didn't wake up after the second dose of stimulant, or even how long to wait for it to start working.

His finger was over the call button when Jack gasped loudly, flung himself upright, and promptly tumbled off the bench.

Relief had Ianto stifling laughter as he crouched beside Jack and leaned into the immortal's line of sight. "All right?" he asked.

Jack looked up at him blearily. "I...died?" He frowned in confusion, then glanced beyond Ianto to take in their darkened surroundings.

"No, just tranqued by Owen." Ianto rested his hand on the other's chest, measuring his heartbeat. It was racing now, a welcome change to the sluggish thumps of the past hour, so long as it calmed down soon. "Want to get up?"

He helped Jack sit and was about to heave him to his feet when the Captain looked down and noticed the state of his clothing. "Uh." He peered suspiciously at the younger man. "Did you get bored waiting?"

Ianto grinned. "Nope. But in hindsight, that probably would've been an easier way to wake you." He found his balance and gripped Jack's arms. "Come on, up."

They stood together, Jack's legs still weak as he leaned heavily on the Welshman. "Here," Ianto murmured, pulling Jack's trousers up and trying not to laugh again.

He could feel breath on his cheek as Jack asked, "Are you okay?"

Ianto froze, his fingers halfway through zipping Jack's fly, caught off guard by the question. Not that it was difficult to answer, he simply found it strange that _his _well-being would come first to Jack's mind, all things considered. "I'm fi-"

He was cut off by lips suddenly pressing against his own, but he really didn't mind, accepting the abrupt kiss and revelling in the proof that they were both alive and whole. Jack's hands slipped up to hold his head still, tongue pushing past his lips to trace everything within, and Ianto gave a low groan of encouragement, opening readily to let his mouth be plundered.

Jack soon pulled back from trying to devour him. He continued to brush his lips lightly against Ianto's, his tongue flicking over the delicate skin, teasing but no longer delving in. The immortal's breathing quickly became heavy and strained and Ianto broke away in concern. "What's wrong?" he asked.

The Captain gave a tired grin and slumped a bit more into Ianto's arms. "I don't seem to have as much energy as usual."

Ianto chuckled. "Guess it's different to when you come back from the dead." He turned them both towards the bench, reluctantly breaking the embrace in order to sit down.

* * *

After about fifteen minutes Jack's legs began to feel less like jelly, the world had stopped spinning and his breath had evened out again. "Right," he said, steeling himself. "Tell me what happened."

"Well, apparently you missed Owen's heroic leap into the fray," Ianto began. A faint smile graced his lips and Jack relaxed immediately, reassured by the expression. "He's a little miffed by that."

"I saw enough. He wasn't hurt then?"

The smile faltered a little. "That depends on how you look at it." Ianto pulled a face. "He managed to get the dart into her neck, and it was effective almost immediately, but during the struggle she broke his arm."

Jack's initial feeling was one of relief. He'd been expecting something far worse considering the last thing he'd seen before blacking out, however it didn't take long for reality to sink in. "Oh," he breathed. "How serious is it?"

Ianto shrugged. "She didn't break the skin, which is good I suppose. Owen said he couldn't tell anything else without an x-ray, so we won't find out until he's free to run some tests on himself. I assume he's still too busy with Gwen to do that right now."

"You haven't heard from them yet?" Jack guessed, receiving a shake of the head in response. "You haven't contacted them either?"

"I thought it best to let them get on with it."

"That bad, huh?"

Another shrug. "She was bleeding pretty heavily."

Ianto seemed unable to meet Jack's eyes and the Captain smiled faintly. He knew it was sometimes easier not to chase after unsavoury news, he'd certainly done it enough himself in the past, but there was a certain amount of guilt that came from avoiding the truth. He reached across and took Ianto's hand in his own, interlacing their fingers.

"She'll be fine," Ianto said, surprising Jack with the sudden declaration. "She's strong."

"She is," agreed Jack. He squeezed the other's hand. "And what about them?" he asked, nodding towards the flashing lights and hoping to redirect the subject.

"We've had to leave them to it, but we fed them a pretty obvious story about a wild animal nearby. Hopefully they'll just run with that."

The Captain nodded in agreement. It was best if they kept out of the spotlight for the time being and though he'd probably have to step in later on, especially if the police came too close to connecting the attack with the sightings of a strange woman that had sprung up that night, for now it was a justifiable gamble to let them investigate unchecked.

They fell silent for a moment, Ianto's head tilted forward as he stared at their entwined fingers. Now that the panic and rush of trying to find Gwen was over, Jack could feel the atmosphere change between them again. The tension that had been washing around them like the tide, sometimes there, sometimes not, began to build once more.

Jack was still unsure about the precise cause of that unease; there had been so many emotional highs and lows over the past few days that it was hard to pinpoint any one particular reason for it. But then he recalled with a start the last conversation he'd had with Gwen, his eyes widening fractionally at the conclusion he'd reached back then.

"You know," he said, speaking without thinking it through, "you don't have to worry about being like me."

The statement brought Ianto's head slowly around and he blinked at the older man. "I'm sorry?"

"You're not immortal. You might not get any older, but the Doctor said you're definitely not like me."

This time there was only the blink, no words.

Jack pushed on, starting to feel distinctly uncomfortable and not liking it at all. "I know you were worried about it-"

"I was?" Ianto muttered, but Jack didn't register what he said.

"-and I understand. Lots of people would want to live forever, until they realise what it involves, but you've already seen the cost, so it's okay that you feel..." he paused to hunt for a suitable word, "...trepidation. But you're fine. You've got a way out."

Ianto was quiet again for a minute, then he tugged his hand free and stood up. "We should find the SUV and get back to the Hub," he said quietly.

The Captain grimaced at the awkward change in subject. "Ianto..."

"I already knew that, Jack," the younger man told him. "I asked the Doctor myself."

"Oh," Jack replied. His mind went blank, having not expected his assumptions to be cast aside so easily. He'd thought he'd found the underlying cause of the Welshman's disquiet, that he'd gotten to the root of the problem, but evidently he was wrong.

He stood, unable to decide how else to respond, and when he felt sure he wouldn't collapse, he gestured for Ianto to choose a direction.

They had only walked for a few minutes before a new idea struck Jack and he looked across to watch Ianto's profile as he spoke. "I had to shoot her."

To his credit, Ianto's steps didn't falter at the vaguely non-sequitur. "I don't know about that," he disagreed.

"What if the tazer hadn't worked a second time either? I couldn't risk her reaching you. _Killing _you."

Ianto hesitated, apparently knocked a little off-kilter by his words, then asked, "At the cost of possibly killing her?"

"She's strong, you said it yourself, and she's become even stronger. I knew she could handle it. And if she couldn't..." Jack trailed off.

That was wrong. He hadn't given a second thought to whether Gwen could take a bullet and keep on walking. He hadn't even thought of her _as _Gwen at that particular moment in time. He'd only seen her as a threat against Ianto's life and acted accordingly. The fact that she _had_ been able to 'handle it' was merely a fortunate conclusion to the entire ordeal.

Ianto was giving him a curious look but Jack's gaze was inward now, examining facts that had been lingering before his eyes but to which he had apparently been blind. Not long ago, after running without direction in search of Gwen, he'd come to the realisation that he'd have reacted the exact same way for any other member of the team. Now he was starting to see Ianto didn't actually come under that generalisation and had instead earned an entirely different set of reactions in Jack's subconscious. Of course he'd already known that, deep down, but acknowledging it was another matter altogether.

Jack's lips quirked a little. Only a few hours earlier he'd been marvelling at the emotional upheaval Gwen had brought into his life, but apparently he hadn't finished that pensive journey through his mind. She'd forced everything into motion and brought crashing down the wall around his heart, but when he'd climbed reluctantly out from under the rubble, she hadn't been the one he'd found waiting on the other side.

"I would have stood by my decision," he finished eventually.

They continued walking, their pace slow as Jack regained his strength, both absorbing the choice Jack had made until Ianto could hold the silence no more. "Thank you." He stopped, a frown creasing his brow. "You know, you've saved my life so many times and I don't think I've ever thanked you for it."

"Of course you have," Jack argued. "You're far too polite for that." He smiled and took a step towards the other man. "Plus you've saved _my_ life as well, so they probably cancel out."

"When did I-?" Ianto began to ask, but once again he was cut off by Jack kissing him quiet.

The Captain didn't particularly want to explain that thoughts of his life in Cardiff had been one of the few reasons he'd gotten through the year spent as the Master's plaything without going mad. He certainly didn't think it was entirely necessary to admit that Ianto had featured heavily in those thoughts either, especially when it was much more enjoyable to show him.

The younger man laughed into the kiss, but didn't pull away. He was far too clever not to realise Jack was distracting him, but Ianto didn't seem to have a problem with that at all. Instead he reached up and, gripping the lapels of Jack's stained coat, pulled him closer.

The energy Jack had been missing before was thankfully flooding back now, the sedative finally wearing off completely beneath the strength of the endorphins rushing through his body. He was not only able to fully devote himself to worshipping Ianto's mouth without running out of air too quickly, but wasn't even the first to reluctantly twist away.

Ianto panted lightly over Jack's damp lips and the immortal smiled as he felt the other's fingers curl tighter against his chest. He tilted his head slightly, kissing his way along Ianto's jaw and then up to run his tongue over the long cut across his cheek. He tasted antiseptic, from the wipe Owen had used on the wound whilst they waited for the others to arrive, and then beneath it the metallic tang of blood, the taste of Ianto's mortality.

The Captain had to jump immediately away from the grim reminder and he moved his head again, pressing his nose to the other man's neck, just below his ear. He inhaled deeply, drawing Ianto's scent into his sinuses and began attacking the skin, sucking hard until he was sure he'd made a mark, then gave a soothing lick to the abused spot.

Ianto released a soft groan, his hands spreading out now to sweep up and over Jack's shoulders. He clung on tightly, one hand coming to rest on the nape of Jack's neck, encouraging him to continue. Jack brought his own hands around to Ianto's backside, pulling until their bodies were lightly touching, the heat between them building swiftly.

"God, that feels good," Ianto declared. He tried to roll his hips forward but Jack's firm grip kept him from moving. He mewled a little in protest and Jack grinned against the skin beneath his lips. He kissed his way up to the other's rounded mouth and plunged back.

Ianto squirmed, seeking more contact, whilst Jack held him sufficiently close to feel the other's body but not nearly enough for the delicious friction Ianto wanted. Their tongues duelled as Ianto began to fight against his lover's teasing, teeth scraping over the immortal's muscle whenever it strayed into his mouth and then following when Jack retreated to nip at his lips in reproval.

Sensing Ianto's impatience, and finding himself unable to wait much longer either, Jack broke away and looked around, trying to figure out where they were.

"What's wrong?" Ianto breathlessly asked. "Dizzy?"

Jack grinned, something catching his eye further down the road. "Not even close," he replied, rocking his hips against Ianto's for just a fraction of a second before pulling back entirely. The younger man pouted at the continuing torment but Jack merely grabbed his hand and began pulling him along the street. "Over here."

"Where are we go-?"

The Captain gave a smirk at the unfinished question and picked up the pace into a jog. Ianto had obviously seen the answer for himself, but had no time to comment before they were in the middle of the playground they'd passed through earlier (now thankfully empty of strutting kids) and Jack was whirling him around to capture his lips once again.

He walked the compliant Ianto backwards towards a complicated structure of metal tubes until the younger man's back hit a ladder, making him inhale sharply in surprise. Jack snatched up his wandering hands, placing them against the uprights and urging the fingers to clasp the cylindrical metal. "Hold on," he commanded, before bending his head to Ianto's neck.

The young man's spine arched as Jack lavished attention on the spot he'd been working before, groaning loudly in pleasure. The immortal slid his hands briefly down to Ianto's hips and pushed them back against the ladder, then brought his fingers around to meet at his lover's belt buckle. It took only a few seconds to get Ianto's trousers unfastened and Jack dropped to his knees, mouth latching straight onto the stirring cock trapped within the dark shorts.

Again Jack had to take hold of the Welshman's hips, pinning him in place to keep from thrusting forward. He moved his lips slowly, teasing the covered flesh until it became fully hard and the soft material was damp with pre-ejaculate.

"Jack," Ianto pleaded. He was trying to rock against the other's grasp, knuckles white where he obediently held onto the ladder despite clearly wanting to reach out to the man before him.

Jack briefly considered denying him for longer, but the idea vanished quickly when he realised _he_ would also have to wait to taste Ianto. That thought had him eagerly yanking aside the shorts, releasing his lover's erection to the morning air and taking the head into his mouth without preamble.

Ianto gave a loud yelp, his hands darting to Jack's hair, but the older man released him almost immediately. "You're a bastard," Ianto said.

A chuckle escaped Jack's lips as he guided Ianto's hands back to the metal uprights. When they remained there, he rewarded the obedient man by wrapping his lips around one testicle and massaging it with his tongue.

"Ngh..." came the response and Jack curled the fingers of his left hand around the neglected ball, purposefully avoiding a pattern to his licks, squeezes and stroking until Ianto was up on his toes, pelvis tilting further and further forward into the unpredictable sensations.

He tried to open his legs to give Jack further access, but his trousers, still mostly in place, stopped him from doing so. Jack smiled around the flesh in his mouth and started to tug the material down, only to stop when it reached his thighs so the young man's legs were trapped even further. Ianto groaned in frustration but said nothing, apparently accepting he was going to be tortured at every opportunity.

Feeling magnanimous, Jack relented in his attack on the other's balls and mouthed his way slowly up the cock straining above them. The burning hardness quivered beneath his lips and when he reached the top he licked a wide stripe back to the base again. One hand continued to massage Ianto's soft sack, whilst the other stroked down to his inner thigh.

"Please," Ianto murmured, after another long lick of his shaft.

He had stayed in place so far, hands on the metal poles and unrestrained hips not pushing _too_ urgently towards the other's mouth, so Jack curled his lips over the head of the solid cock and pushed the tip of his tongue into the weeping slit there.

Ianto cried out, his entire body shaking as he fought to remain where Jack had placed him. He did well, his pelvis jerking up just a fraction, but no further. The Captain moved again, relaxing his jaw and taking the flesh fully into his mouth until it hit the back of his throat. He drew back, then repeated the action, this time swallowing around Ianto's cock at its deepest point.

"Oh, God..."

Always pleased to get a positive reaction, Jack kept up the deep, steady tempo; far too slow to push Ianto over the edge, and yet still incredibly pleasurable for them both. Jack was as hard as his lover, trapped in the confines of his trousers, but entirely unwilling to release the trembling body even to touch himself. He crept his right hand up from Ianto's thigh, past its twin still playing with his balls, and slid a finger lightly along the young man's perineum to his awaiting opening.

Jack wasn't worried about the absence of lube, their commingled sweat and Ianto's alternative view of pain more than enough for what he planned, but he passed over the flexing hole a couple of times, both warning Ianto of what was to come and encouraging the muscle to start to relax.

Ianto, unsurprisingly, didn't protest the development, instead letting out an impatient grunt and pushing back against the questing finger. Jack slipped in easily to the first joint and began to circle his fingertip, rubbing only against the ring of muscle. He increased the speed of his bobbing head, bringing his tongue fully into play as he undulated it against the heavy shaft. The change took Ianto's attention away from the probing in his arse and, though it wasn't exactly tight to start with, the flesh around Jack's finger loosened even more.

The Captain added another digit and began thrusting in as far as he could go as a counterpoint to his mouth. He fell into a familiar rhythm, pushing in as he drew his lips up to the head of Ianto's cock, then wiggling them free as he swallowed the hard shaft back down.

Soft grunts rumbled in Ianto's throat, his hips forgetting the command not to move and rolling each time he hit either Jack's throat or the base of his fingers. He did not, however, give into what Jack could only imagine was an incredible temptation to just start fucking the willing mouth surrounding him.

Deciding that was far from acceptable, Jack took things one step further. He sped up again, now curling his fingers to rub over Ianto's prostate with each inward plunge.

"Aah," Ianto moaned, his pelvis moving faster under the new stimulation, whether by his knowledge or not. A hand wound its way into Jack's hair, unnecessarily holding him in place and the older man smirked inwardly; he was hardly about to stop now, despite his previous teasing. Even though it went against the rules, he allowed the hand to remain, enjoying the way Ianto's fingers clutched desperately at the dark strands. "Yes, yes," the young man chanted in between hiccupping gasps for air.

Jack could feel Ianto's cock becoming even harder, growing bigger at his impending orgasm, and he again flicked his tongue over the leaking glans. Ianto exploded with a cry that echoed loudly through the early morning air, thick come filling Jack's mouth. He gladly swallowed and began lapping quickly at the softening member, sensing the weakening of Ianto's legs and wanting to clean him fully before he dropped.

"Jack," Ianto hummed in contentment. Sure enough, his shaking legs started to give way and he allowed Jack to catch him as he fell onto his knees, immediately wrapping his arms around the older man's neck and kissing him deeply.

"Let's get you dressed," Jack murmured against his lips, reaching out to pull up the trousers he'd left only part way down Ianto's thighs. His lover stopped him, grabbing his wrists and peering at him with dark heavy eyes.

"No," Ianto growled, pushing the captured arms back until Jack became unbalanced. He tumbled onto the playground's black rubber floor and Ianto crawled up through his parted legs to straddle his hips. Or at least to try. He frowned at his impeded movements, as though he'd forgotten that half-undone clothes tended to get in the way. Leaning to the side, he slipped off one shoe and trouser leg and then settled himself properly over the bulge of Jack's arousal.

The Captain merely lay there and watched him throughout, enraptured by the graceful motions and the pout that had accompanied them. "Hey," he greeted when Ianto was in place, resting his hands on the now fully bared thighs and tracing circles across muscles that still trembled faintly from their previous exertions.

Ianto replied by bending over and sticking his tongue into Jack's mouth. His hands worked between them to part Jack's clothing and free his neglected cock, immediately wrapping his fingers around the almost purple flesh and squeezing hard.

"Uhn," said Jack, unwittingly digging his own fingers into the legs he'd been stroking. "Payback?"

The pressure increased in confirmation, but Ianto also began to move his hand, drawing the tight tunnel up Jack's dick and swiping his thumb across the top. "I'm fine with that," the Captain assured him, rocking up into the other's bruising grip.

"I expected nothing less," Ianto said absently, nibbling at Jack's swollen and abused lips. He shuffled further forward on his knees, adjusting his grip on Jack's cock but never letting go, until the slick head slid along the crease of his arse.

"Ianto?" The older man frowned up at his lover, trying to push aside the cotton wool around his brain that threatened to make him forget everything in light of the rising bliss.

"It's fine," Ianto replied. "I don't need any more."

Both men groaned as Ianto lowered himself onto the immortal's cock, the tip breaching the poorly-prepared hole and meeting more delicious resistance than usual. Jack's protests began to die on his lips, the tight heat taking his breath away, then he looked up to see Ianto's head thrown back as he sunk all the way down and any thought of stopping him vanished like mist in the sunlight.

Jack took hold of the Welshman's hips, intending to help him move, but Ianto didn't seem to need the assistance at all, rising up and impaling himself again in one long smooth motion. He looked down at Jack, catching his gaze and holding it as he repeated the action. The older man grinned, kneading his fingers into the flesh he held.

"You're amazing," he suddenly blurted, managing to surprise himself with his own words. He didn't know where that had come from, he certainly tended to avoid such declarations in those kinds of situations, but he definitely _meant_ it, he could be sure of that much.

Ianto, however, only smiled indulgently and said nothing, his eyes betraying his lack of faith in Jack's statement.

"It's true," Jack went on, trying to convince him with hard thrusts up into his pliant heat.

Ianto leaned forward to silence him, hands sneaking deftly beneath his shirts. He brushed over Jack's nipples, circled around and then returned to roll them between his fingertips. The Captain grunted into his lover's mouth and lost all control of the kiss, leaving Ianto free to plunge in with his tongue, mimicking the other way in which they were joined.

Jack's thoughts to prove the dismissive man of his honesty were overshadowed by the new sensations. In a dark corner of his mind _not_ currently filled with the white noise of pleasure, he noted in amusement that Ianto had effectively pinned him in place with a threefold attack, much as Jack had just done to him. It wasn't quite the slow taunting of Jack's earlier actions, but in a way the precise, unrelenting manner in which Ianto rode him was almost as torturous. Jack approved completely and happily stroked over the firm buttocks lifting and falling atop his cock, touching as much naked skin as possible.

The air became thin between their melded lips and they broke apart reluctantly. Ianto pulled back a few inches, staring into Jack's eyes again as he continued his steady rocking, looking for all the world like he had nowhere to go and no rush to get there. Jack brought his hands up, one curling around the back of Ianto's neck, the other cupping his face, his thumb brushing over the plush wet lips. They curved up beneath his gentle touch, just a moment before Ianto's eyes flicked past Jack's head and the smile transformed into a circle of surprise.

"Uh oh," he murmured, jolting back and increasing his pace until he was slamming down onto Jack's cock with each bounce. The older man yelped, alarmed by the sudden shift in weight and speed.

"What? What's wrong?"

"We," Ianto gasped, "...are about...to have..." He let go of Jack's nipples to sit upright, arching his back and moaning as he clutched his renewed erection. "An audience," he finished, pumping himself frantically.

The breath vanished from Jack's lungs, the combination of Ianto's words and his actions sending a violent shudder through his body. The threat of being caught was always a thrill to Jack, but by far the best element was always witnessing Ianto's reaction. Most of the time he would leap away, adorably flustered and trying to make excuses, as though the witness could possibly misinterpret the situation, but sometimes, just _sometimes,_ the young man gave into the urge to indulge in humanity's latent exhibitionism.

This, Jack realised with excitement, was one of those latter occasions. Having been fully hard since he'd first put his mouth on Ianto's dick, Jack knew it wasn't going to take much to push him over the edge and he embraced the rapidly approaching apex, too far gone to even try and make it a good show for whoever Ianto had seen.

He curled a hand around the blur of Ianto's fist, urging him into an even more punishing rhythm. The Welshman's head fell back again as he fucked himself hard on Jack's cock and Jack shifted his legs, adjusting their angle until he was able to hit Ianto's prostate on every pass. The muscles surrounding him spasmed violently and the immortal sucked in a surprised breath through gritted teeth, almost too close to the edge to hold back any longer.

Jack looked up at Ianto, marvelling at the persistent and ardent motions, and became abruptly jealous that any passing voyeur could witness this glorious creature at the peak of his pleasure. He knew time was of the essence now; not only because of their location and the ever-nearing morning, but also because he was going to come any second now and deprive Ianto of the solid shaft upon which he appeared to be having so much fun.

Not especially wanting to end it, but aware that to do so now would make it all the better, Jack slid his hands under his lover's shirt and up to the layer of bandages wrapped around his torso. He had barely brushed over the hidden wounds before Ianto was crying out, shuddering atop Jack as he came and squeezing even tighter around the flesh inside him.

The look of utter abandon on Ianto's face, coupled with the surprised shout and flexing muscles, meant that after only another few thrusts, Jack followed him into the bright ether, pushing up impossibly deep into Ianto's heat and emptying himself there.

The younger man collapsed forward, breathing fast as he pushed his nose along Jack's neck, seeking the scent Jack knew would be most potent at that particular moment in time. The Captain laughed quietly and held him against his chest, trying to fill his own lungs again after they'd apparently forgotten how to work.

A few seconds later he remembered the reason for the abrupt and fervent end to their coupling and twisted his head, vainly trying to see behind him towards the street.

Ianto gave a grunt of protest at the movement. "Stop it," he chastised.

"Didn't you say someone was coming?"

"Someone definitely came," Ianto murmured into his throat.

Jack snorted, recognising his own joke from the previous night. "Other than us," he said fondly.

Ianto squirmed and lifted his head, revealing features that were relaxed and more than a little drowsy. Jack wanted to take all the credit for that, but he suspected the eventful day and lack of sleep were just as equally to blame. "That's what I meant," Ianto said, his voice thick with postcoital bliss. "There was a jogger. He passed right by us." He dropped his head to press a kiss to Jack's waiting lips. "Got the show of his life, I should think."


	20. Chapter 19

**A/N: Sorry for the wait! There are only another two chapters to go after this one and wrapping everything up is proving quite the challenge! Plus with all the concern about _certain _kinds of accounts being pulled it's hard to know how to finish a story like this! I mean, with all the boys have gotten up to before now, would a PG-rated ending be suitable? My thoughts? Nope!**** ) **

* * *

It seemed to Toshiko that everything was covered in blood. An understandable occurrence, given the preceding few hours, and yet she couldn't help but marvel at the splashes of gradually darkening red that appeared to have caught every object, and person, in the near vicinity.

She hadn't been immune to the abrupt spread of colour either, (in fact she'd been one of the worst afflicted after helping Owen treat Gwen) and she was starting to doubt that the red would ever entirely leave her skin, no matter how many times she washed.

With a shudder, Tosh looked away from the dark telltale rings around her nails and up to the transparent wall before her. Gwen was currently looking far healthier than Tosh would have expected, considering it wasn't all that long ago she had her hands inside the wounded woman's torso, trying to fish out the bullet lodged therewithin. In truth, things could be viewed as somewhat backwards: Gwen and her gunshot wound pacing restlessly within her cell whilst the four who stood outside, who had sustained only minimal injuries, were motionless and drained.

Tosh glanced to her side, where Owen was watching his patient with a grim expression upon his waxy face. Her mind had classified their injuries as minor, but in reality Owen's broken left arm could prove incredibly serious indeed. He hadn't said much about it, being more concerned with Gwen, however he _had _cursed a few times since, when automatically trying to use his hand and finding it refusing his commands. She wanted to ask about it, but Owen had brushed off her questions whilst they'd been treating Gwen and she got the impression he didn't want to think about it himself, let alone try to reassure her about something of which he had no real knowledge yet.

"Should she be moving around so much?" Rhys asked, breaking the reflective silence that had descended over the observers. Tosh turned back to the grey-skinned woman: she was currently prowling like an animal across the short width of her room, the long medical gown she wore flaring with each tight turn.

"She's resilient," Owen replied, never taking his eyes off her. "The changes in her body have made her strong."

"But won't she burst the stitches?"

"Hopefully not. If she does anything more than this, then, yeah, it might become a risk. Fortunately there isn't really enough room for her to leap around in there."

Tosh's lips pressed into a thin unhappy line. She'd never liked watching animals at the zoo, they always seemed so eager to escape their small enclosures, and now seeing her friend, changes notwithstanding, trapped in the same manner made her sad, and just a little angry.

As part of Torchwood, the level of threat against their lives was an understandable risk that Tosh had learned to accept early on, but in Gwen's case it wasn't her life in peril (excluding shootings by Jack) it was her very being. No one had said it out loud yet, but she was sure everyone had considered at least once the possibility that Gwen would remain in this feral state for the rest of her life. They were dealing with a genetic virus that was too quick and too advanced for them to confidently fight and it was taking away the very essence of the woman for whom they all cared greatly.

"I know what you're thinking," a voice sing-songed into her ear and Tosh jumped, inhaling sharply and turning to see the Doctor's smiling face close by her shoulder. He seemed highly amused by her reaction and she coughed lightly to hide her embarrassment.

"You do?" she asked, finding it hard to hold the Time Lord's intense gaze for long before she had to look away.

"You're thinking there's no hope and she'll only get worse."

Tosh felt she kept control of her expression rather well as the Doctor guessed her concerns, but she couldn't help the guilt that flooded through her to hear the thoughts spoken aloud. She closed her eyes, trying to push away the destructive emotions; she wouldn't be much good to anyone if she fell apart now.

"But you're forgetting something," the Doctor went on, and her eyes snapped open and back to meet his once again. Past his shoulder, Tosh was vaguely aware of Rhys regarding her with a pained look upon his face she guessed matched her own, but the alien's magnetism had captured her by that point, almost physical invading her senses like rays of light through water.

Enraptured by his fathomless eyes, Tosh saw all of a sudden that there was hope to be found: not only for Gwen's condition, but for everything and everyone, for the future of mankind and every other species in the universe. She could see strands connecting everything, drawing it all together, binding-

The Doctor blinked and the spell was broken.

A rush of air escaped between Tosh's lips as she rocked back slightly on her heels, feeling as though she'd left her body for just a second and then fallen back into it with a jolt. "You had an idea," she recalled, swallowing hard around the lump in her throat and trying not to think too deeply about what she thought she'd just seen.

"I did," the Time Lord agreed. He drew out the last word, his tone teasing and jovial.

"Do you want to share with the rest of the class?" Owen asked, one eyebrow cocked and his own voice far less gruff than Tosh would have expected.

"Hmm," the alien said thoughtfully. "That depends on whether you're going to keep an open mind about it."

Rhys gave a mournful groan. "Oh God. What do you want to do to her now?"

The Doctor grinned and slung an arm around his shoulders. "It's brilliant," the Time Lord declared. "Even if I do say so myself." He paused dramatically until everyone was practically vibrating with impatience, then, leaning in and lowering his voice, he told them, "We give her another virus."

* * *

Ianto was pretty much dead on his feet by the time he and Jack made it back to the Hub. The twenty-four hour mark had passed a while ago and although he'd pulled all-nighters in the past, he normally had the help of copious amounts of caffeine to get him through. And of course, on top of that, he was still seriously wounded from the Kalkerifeenian's attack and things had been moving far too quickly for him to rest and start recovering.

Jack had an arm around his waist as they entered the Hub, ostensibly to help him stay upright, but Ianto couldn't stop himself thinking how natural it felt there. They hadn't spoken much after getting themselves dressed and finally back to the SUV, nor even on the journey or as they passed through the security doors into the underground base. It wasn't an awkward hush between them, just a quiet that didn't demand to be broken.

It was clear to Ianto that something had shifted in the past couple of hours; just a marginal realignment that brought their tumbling orbits slightly further into sync than before. He was willing to concede it could be due to his ever-fantastical imagination and that he was simply getting better at seeing only what he wanted, however the evidence was stacking up and Ianto was starting to bow under the weight of it all.

The thoughts that had danced through his head whilst waiting on that bench for Jack to awaken, the tantalizing notions of some deeper meaning to the immortal's recent behaviour towards both himself and Gwen, were constantly on the edge of his mind and, though it might be the fatigue's doing, he found himself indulging in the possibility they'd grown closer than ever; that the affection he so feared to show might possibly be allowed now and that Jack had deemed him worthy of having access to his closely-guarded heart.

The hand loosely clasping his hip squeezed in encouragement as they wearily passed from the corridors and into the central chamber. Ianto thought back to the previous night when they'd been heading in the opposite direction, him following Jack as commanded like a well-trained dog. Jack's actions down by the SUV had been unexpected but not entirely unwelcomed; Ianto might fault the timing, but the driving emotions that had set Jack off overshadowed the more inappropriate elements. Ianto had believed at the time it was concern of Ianto abusing Gwen's vulnerability that brought about the incident, but he was rapidly coming to see it from another angle, where Jack's possessiveness instead took the helm and the frantic sex meant only that the Captain was reaffirming who belonged to whom.

Ianto smiled to himself as his own mind conjured up the analogy of ownership. He'd been entwined with Jack for so long that he'd pretty much considered himself the immortal's anyway, but now it seemed that Jack was starting to think the same way, and quite possibly in a manner unrelated to their mutually beneficial sexual practises.

They were in sight of the sofa now, the destination for their tired bodies, and Ianto's thoughts scattered abruptly when he realised the sofa was already occupied. Rhys was slumped across the cushions, as though he'd sat down and simply collapsed sideways. A rumbling snore escaped where his face was pushed into the tatty material, so at least he was alive and not the alternative his awkward position suggested, but it did mean Ianto's intention to drop there himself was entirely scuppered.

"Office?" Jack asked, already steering them to the right.

"Wait." Ianto put a hand to Jack's chest, stopping their ungraceful progress, and then pointed to the white-tiled space ahead.

Jack took the hint, walking them over to the railing and then slumping against it just as heavily as Ianto. Beneath them Owen was on his knees, surrounded by a mass of pink foam and scrubbing determinedly at the floor with his right hand. His left arm was strapped tightly out of the way across his chest in a manner that would have been incredibly uncomfortable to anyone able to feel, but it was clearly no trouble to the lifeless man.

"Owen?" Jack called. Ianto could feel the other man tense at the sight, body rigid against his side, and his own pulse began to race with fear at what they were seeing.

The medic glanced up, taking in their battered appearance and concerned expressions and smiled grimly. "She's fine," he told them. "Well, not _fine_, she's still grey and moody, but she's not bleeding all over the place anymore."

Both Jack and Ianto sighed in relief. "Everyone else?"

"A few bruises, mostly just knackered. Other than the Doctor, of course. I think he convinced Tosh to get on the coffee again and now they're in the lab talking designer genetics."

Ianto blinked heavily, the words sounding far away and rather alien to his ears. He suspected he should be troubled by Owen's use of the words 'Tosh' and 'coffee' together, but the only thing he could really focus on was the strong arm still holding him upright.

"What about you?" Jack asked.

Owen snorted. "Who the fuck knows? The bone's broken and it's obviously not going to fuse together again, so I'm probably going to have to go in there and weld the bloody thing together or something."

"Surgery?" Ianto heard himself saying.

"Either that or I'm unable to do a damn thing with it for the rest of my life." He scowled. "Non-life," he amended. "Anti-life?"

"Don't..." Ianto began, only to trail off. "I'll..." But he couldn't seem to get beyond one word at a time. He waved a hand at the soapy floor in explanation, swaying dangerously with the motion.

Jack chuckled and pulled him tighter against his side, keeping him from tumbling down the hard steps and doing any more damage. "Owen can clean up just this once," the older man insisted. "He's perfectly capable and should frankly do it more often."

Ianto scowled at that, having always suspected Owen's medical cleanliness was selective depending on the situation.

"If you're good and get some proper rest, maybe I'll let you loose with a mop later," Jack went on, murmuring into Ianto's ear now and sending a shiver down the younger man's spine.

"Is he okay?" Owen asked. He'd pulled himself to his feet and was climbing the stairs as he flicked suds from his one good hand.

"Worn out," Jack replied with a shrug. "Can't say I'm far behind, to be honest."

Owen nodded in understanding, but he took hold of Ianto's head and checked his pupils quickly. "His wounds didn't open again, did they? The stubborn git wouldn't let me check earlier, kept insisting Gwen was my concern."

"I don't think so."

Ianto's lips quirked as he listened to the distant conversation he was pretty confident concerned himself. He was aware of being turned and then warm hands were opening his shirt and running over his chest. There was a mass of bandages there, covering both the raw circle left by the alien slug's spike and the deep gashes Gwen had carved into his pectorals, but they did nothing to dull the feeling of Jack touching him. His smile spread at the sensation and he leaned further back into the heat of his lover.

"He's good," Jack declared, voice greatly amused, and he tugged the edges of Ianto's shirt together.

Ianto blinked heavily, his vision coming into focus again in time to catch Owen rolling his eyes. "You'd better get him horizontal before he keels over," the doctor said, then huffed as they both smirked lazily at him. "And it's about time he started healing, so no more running around, no fighting crazy-strong Gwen Coopers, and none of that...that kinky stuff, okay?"

* * *

Ianto woke with a jolt, his mind instantly alert and replaying what Owen had last said to him. He sucked in a huge breath, unseeing eyes darting all over as his brain attempted to counter the instinctual hysteria of discovery.

Owen _knew._ He knew about their dalliances into BDSM!

A second later, common sense returned. _Of course _he knew; he'd known since back when Jack had learnt of Ianto's regular trips to the sadist and had revealed his secret to the rest of the team to guilt him into behaving. To be fair, it hadn't exactly been a regular topic of conversation since then, but it wasn't going to be something people just forgot. Especially not Ianto's own frigging doctor who, despite having the bedside manner of a rather peeved wasp, was actually very good at his job.

Panic attack averted, Ianto's tense body uncoiled a little and he relaxed into the cushions beneath him. He looked around properly this time and found he was lying on the couch in the office, Jack's heavy woollen coat spread over his body and a crick forming at the top of his spine.

"Ow," he muttered, sitting up and rubbing the nape of his neck. He felt like he was covered in bruises and, after the previous few days, wouldn't be at all surprised to find that was actually the case. But Ianto was used to powering through, so he levered himself to his feet and, having hung up the coat and made a mental note to get it away to the cleaners as soon as possible, staggered out into the centre of the Hub.

Déjà vu struck as he made his way through the empty space, feet taking him straight to the kitchenette and hands working the coffee machine without thought. This time he retrieved only one mug and filled it to the brim with dark, unsweetened liquid. There was not an ounce of remorse in his body as he continued on his way to the labs, slowly sipping at the glorious drink and adding to the list in his head all the things that had recently been neglected.

By the time he reached his destination there were more than just a few items on that list, and he knew it would only keep on growing the longer he left them. Above all that, however, above his responsibilities as office manager/lackey of Torchwood, was the task of going home, having a proper shower, and finding some clean, undamaged clothes. He'd gone through the entire collection of spares he kept at the Hub and he really didn't think he could pull off wearing Jack's clothes; not so much because of the fit, but rather because he didn't think he could stand the inevitable teasing about them wearing the same outfit.

"Ah, Sleeping Beauty! So glad you could join us!"

Ianto glared at Jack, who was smirking broadly and looking very much more alert than the Welshman felt. He said nothing, merely lifted his mug and took a long drink, watching his lover over the rim. Jack's eyes darted from his to the cup, to the pocket in which Ianto's other empty hand was resting, then back up again, grin faltering in realisation. It was replaced by a pout, bottom lip childishly pushed out, but he couldn't hold the act for long and instead settled on a wry smile that Ianto read as Jack mentally tipping his king.

Ianto forced himself not to give his own smirk, but he did _so _love it when he won a round like that. "What's the latest?" he asked instead, eyeing his three colleagues. "How's Gwen?" He guessed nothing big had happened whilst he'd been sleeping, not only because he hadn't been woken but also because, for all they'd been through, everyone else had remarkably calm expressions upon their faces.

"Honestly?" Owen replied. "If these new genes of hers have done nothing else, they've at least made her incredibly tough." He sounded rather inappropriately impressed. "I wish I could give Tosh full credit for her healing hands, or take some myself for my outstanding tutelage, but I think it's all down to Gwen. I'm half convinced she'd have recovered just fine if we'd left her to it." He gave a shrug at the dubious looks he received. "I said _half_."

"She's going to be okay?"

"Give her a few days and it'll be like she was never shot."

Ianto lifted one eyebrow, recognising the selective choice of words. Even if the gunshot wound cleared as fast as that, there was still so much happening in Gwen's body that they weren't entirely able to stop worrying about her just yet. "So what do we do now?"

"We were just talking about that actually. We're debating what to infect Gwen with next," Owen told him.

He said it so nonchalantly that Ianto was forced to tilt his head and ask, "Come again?"

"We're going to give her another virus," the medic went on. "Obviously."

Ianto peered suspiciously down into his mug but, having made it himself, he didn't think it wasn't likely to be the cause. "Another virus?" he repeated dubiously. "Shouldn't we help her through this one first?"

Jack chuckled. "Actually, no." He was leaning against one of the workbenches and began sliding surreptitiously towards the younger man and, incidentally, the lone cup of fresh coffee in the room. "The Doctor thinks we can stop this one's progress by introducing another change to her DNA."

"Meaning we'd be changing it _back_, right?"

Tosh shook her head. "Ideally we would, but it's just gone too far for that now." At his bemused look she went on, "The changes are happening so quickly in her body that there simply isn't time to try gene therapy right now. If we leave it too long, this virus could do too much damage to ever get her back to normal again."

"At least this way," Owen added, "we can stop her turning any further into...well whatever she's turning into."

"So, we give her our own version of the virus that started the change?" Ianto squinted around the room, considering the possibility they were having him on. "That stops the change and _then_ we go ahead with the gene therapy?" He couldn't claim to have much working or theoretical knowledge of genetics, and it sounded a little like they were suggesting fighting fire with fire, but considering he was hardly able to offer an alternative, all he could do was accept what they were telling him. "Okay, if you say so. Just out of interest though, what about the anti-virus you had ready to go before?"

Owen grunted unhappily, whilst Tosh's expression turned mournful. "It's useless," she told him. "We used samples taken from Gwen before she was frozen to make it, but because the original virus didn't stop in cryo, it's all different now."

"Can't you just make a new one?"

"The Doctor said that fighting it on the same level would be more taxing on Gwen's body than simply introducing something strong enough to force it into complete submission."

"He likened it to sending a tiger to catch an oberlock," Jack said. Ianto turned to lift an eyebrow at him and found the other man even closer than before. "He meant mouse," the Captain explained with a grin.

"Right." Ianto shifted his weight, moving a few inches in the opposite direction, then took a deep swallow of his coffee to show Jack he knew precisely what he was planning. "How long will it be this time then?" The anti-virus had only taken a few hours to prepare, and by the sound of things it was going to prove extremely helpful if the same speed could be applied again. That thought had Ianto narrowing his eyes at them. "You haven't made it already, have you?"

"No, and the time frame will depend on what we do with it," Owen said. "It's easy to genetically alter things, relatively speaking I mean, but much harder to change them in a specific way. We think-"

He was interrupted as the Doctor burst in through the doorway, a broad grin stretched across his face. "The Mynars!" he announced triumphantly, looking between them expectantly for a response.

Jack spoke up first, indulging the Time Lord as he asked, "The what?"

"Not 'what'," said the Doctor. He skipped into the room, grabbing Jack's shoulder as he passed and shaking him playfully. "Who!" He threw himself onto a tall stool next to Tosh and started tapping frantically away at the laptop open by her elbow. "They're swamp-dwellers from the southern continent on Aitta 7. Brilliant physiology: incredibly resistive to sickness and disease. They're not big talkers but I'm sure that's more a personal choice than anything else."

Tosh was already peering over his shoulder, eyes flicking back and forth almost as fast as the Doctor's fingers were moving, and the others shuffled around to see what was going on.

Ianto rolled his eyes when he saw the mass of numbers and symbols filling the screen, instantly lost before the mass of chemical formulae. Jack leaned into his personal space, eyes running over the figures on the monitor and his brow creased in apparent thought. Ianto glanced to his other side, where the mug was still firmly enclosed within his fingers, then back to Jack. The corner of the Captain's lips twitched up, as though aware of Ianto's suspicions, but didn't dignify his mistrust with any other reaction.

"What's this then?" the young man asked, trying not to let his mind linger too long on the feeling of his lover's body pressing against his own.

The Doctor conjured his screwdriver from thin air and started adjusting something upon it. "This is the basis of your new colleague," he said, setting down the strange artefact beside the laptop and pressing a few more keys. A flood of even more complicated symbols filled the screen, growing line by line so fast that everything started to blur together as the page scrolled down.

"Ooh," the Time Lord squealed, bouncing on his stool like a child. "I've never made anything like this before, isn't it exciting? I mean I knew the first of the hybrids appeared on Earth in this century but I hadn't realised I'd be a party to its creation!"

Before anyone could ask, he waved Owen and Tosh over to the bank of monitors on the other side of the workbench. "Dr. Harper, we need the delivery method from the anti-virus tweaked to carry this additional data, and lovely Toshiko, if you'd be so kind, I want you to double check the formulae I send you."

The pair scrambled to their stations, caught up in the alien's enthusiasm and eager to help. Ianto bit back a smile to see Owen complying without even the slightest snark or complaint about being bossed around by an outsider. Fully expecting to receive their own orders, Ianto and Jack remained where they were - Jack still leaning unnecessarily close - but nothing more was said as the other three fell into the intense silence of those hard at work.

"So you're going to turn Gwen into one of these Mynars?" Ianto asked, feeling a little out of the loop.

"We're drawing on the genetic structure, yes, but it won't make her an exact copy," the Doctor replied, attention still fixed on his screen.

"But she'll be a hybrid?"

"The Mynars are distant descendants of a settlement humans will colonise in your fairly near future. Their DNA is similar to present-day humans but different enough to let Gwen retain a humanoid appearance whilst also giving her the strength to survive all these changes."

"And remove this, uh, _animal_ behaviour as well?"

The Doctor flashed a grin at the young Welshman. "That's the unquestionably brilliant plan!"

Ianto smiled back at him, unable to do otherwise in the light of such obvious zeal. "You know," he said. "I was always under the impression genetics was this convoluted sciencey thing that people had to train years to understand and even longer to manipulate. Now I'm starting to think I should give it a go myself if it's so easy."

"But what would you do with the ability to genetically alter yourself?" Jack asked in a low voice. A hand settled on Ianto's back and began to trace light circles. "What would you want to change?"

"Who said I'd be changing myself?" Turning his head to the side, Ianto found Jack's face right beside his own, the bright ageless eyes ensnaring his instantly. His mouth went dry and his lips parted automatically, and although he knew Jack was hardly going to kiss him in front of everyone else, Ianto couldn't help but marvel at the way his body anticipated it anyway.

And then Jack finally made his move, the move Ianto had been expecting since entering the lab. Pressing even nearer, he slid his hand down Ianto's back to squeeze one buttock almost painfully hard, distracting Ianto enough to use his other hand to pluck the mug from the young man's fingers with the smooth motion of a well-practised thief. He whirled out of reach before Ianto could react, already swallowing a mouthful of the remaining coffee, and smirking at his success.

"Right," Ianto sighed loudly. "I guess I'll go make some more drinks then." He began to roll up the sleeves of his shirt, exaggerating the hard-done-by act and fighting not to grin back at his playful lover.

"Oi, what's that?" Owen asked suddenly, pushing himself away from his computer and stomping over to Ianto. The younger man reared back a little in surprise, but Owen caught him easily by one arm and pushed the sleeve cuff further up. "For God's sake, don't you two listen to any of my bloody advice?"

Ianto bit his lip as he followed Owen's gaze to the red markings wrapped around his wrist, the damning evidence of the night before when Jack had cuffed him to the SUV. "Uh..."

Owen grabbed Ianto's other arm and flipped aside his cuff, huffing at the smudges of brown staining the heavy material. "Jesus," he growled. "You broke the skin. Why didn't you get this cleaned up?"

"There wasn't time," Ianto explained. "And I guess I forgot when we got back here."

"Got back...?" Owen echoed, shooting a glare towards Jack. "When the fuck did you get these? How long have you been walking around with an open wound?" He twisted Ianto's wrist around, examining the pattern of scraped skin the speedcuffs had created. "You're already injured, you don't need to be exposing yourself to more crap like this!"

"Uh," Ianto said again, looking across to Jack with pleading eyes.

The older man, however, was clearly trying to swallow his laughter. "I'm sure it's not all that bad," Jack said evenly. "You should see the state of the SUV."

It took a few seconds but Ianto could see the exact moment the penny dropped. "Oh for _fuck's_ sake," Owen groaned loudly.

* * *

After Torchwood's doctor had finished cleaning Ianto's wrists and smoothing cream over the abused skin, all the while shaking his head in exasperation, the rest of the day passed fairly uneventfully. Owen, Tosh and the Doctor were all focused on their work creating the virus to alter Gwen's DNA once again, whilst Ianto made sure they had everything they needed as soon as, if not before, they asked for it.

Jack, however, was considerably less helpful. He spent some time watching over Gwen, standing vigil outside her cell whilst she paced back and forth, glaring daggers at him. He spoke to her, looking for a sign that she recognised him, and watched her movements to make sure she really wasn't suffering too much from the wound for which he'd been responsible. It was only when Rhys returned from an enforced shower and meal that he left again, unable to stand the weight of the concern radiating from the Welshman on top of Gwen's stalking gaze.

He went from the lower levels back to the labs where he began to bombard everyone he could find with questions, including precisely when the virus would be done.

"Well," Tosh spoke up at that point, "if you want it to go faster I could use some help checking over these-"

Jack frowned her silent. "Busy work?" he said in a disappointed voice, before turning to where the Time Lord was bent over a microscope. "So, Doctor, once this virus is done you'll be off, right?"

The alien hooked an eyebrow at the sample he was studying. "Eager to be rid of me, are you?"

"Well, we won't need you anymore," Jack pointed out with a shrug. "And you won't get your heroic exit if you stick around too long after you've swooped in to save the day."

The Doctor lifted his head, slowly straightening and looking towards the immortal man. His eyes were narrowed at first but the suspicion soon cleared and a knowing smile tugged at his lips instead. "You're right, Captain, I do live for the adulation of those I help."

"And if you didn't depart right away, they might realise you've left them with even more trouble than before."

The Doctor nodded solemnly. "That's right, the dreaded clean up."

Jack's laughter filled the room, but the Doctor merely returned to the microscope with a grin and said nothing more. From her perch at the workbench, Tosh glanced between the two men, not entirely sure if this was the healthy joking of friends, or the subtle jibes of enemies.

"So you will leave?" she asked after a few moments, concerned by the prospect of losing the Doctor's help before Gwen was fully healed.

The alien abandoned his sample again, his expression softer as he turned to her. "I can't stay," he told her gently. "It isn't in my nature." He shrugged, unashamed to admit the truth.

"Plus if he stayed too long, he'd probably end up bringing about the destruction of the Earth," Jack added, earning one bewildered and one curious look from Tosh and the Doctor respectively. "Because of all the trouble that seems to follow you around," he explained.

The Doctor hummed thoughtfully. "There's something ironic about you saying that," he said. "I just can't put my finger on why..."

"But what if this virus doesn't help Gwen?" Tosh asked. "What if she gets worse, or it doesn't change her as we've designed it?"

"Well I can't promise she'll come out exactly as we plan, but we won't make her any worse."

Tosh didn't look convinced and the Doctor moved closer, reaching out to take one hand between his own. "Trust me," he said. "It's going to be _fine_."

"How can you know that?"

"Because!" the Doctor fervently exclaimed. "Because this is when it happens, because she's strong enough to endure the process, because you and Dr. Harper are brilliant and, most importantly, because _I said so_."

A reluctant smile began to light Tosh's face, as she was swept up once again in the Time Lord's unique form of mania. "Can it really be that easy?"

"Of _course_ it can," the alien assured her. He pulled on her arm and twirled her across the room like a dancer. "Of course it can!" Tosh laughed, a pretty blush colouring her cheeks, and the Doctor grinned over her head at Jack. "Plus I'll be coming back, if that makes you feel better."

"You will?" Jack asked before Tosh could ask first. "When?"

The Doctor laughed. "If I told you a specific date, would you really expect me?"

"True," the immortal admitted wryly. "But roughly?"

"Within the solar year, I should think. I want to see how our little project develops." He released Tosh's hand and plopped himself down onto a nearby stool. "The first manufactured human hybrid," he breathed, mostly to himself.

He still sounded awed by the prospect and Jack smiled fondly at the Time Lord's appreciation of such things. It wasn't as though hybrids were unknown to the Doctor - he'd likely encountered more variations of lifeforms than anyone else in existence - and yet the fact he was there on Earth to witness Gwen's infection and change, then take part in changing her _again_, was clearly enthralling for him. Had Jack been in the Doctor's place, he knew he'd have felt the same way, but the personal nature of the situation meant that apprehension dulled any thrill he might feel at what he was witnessing.

The Doctor sighed, loud and happily. "I must say, Jack, it's rather amazing what I encounter when you're in the near vicinity."

"Thank you," the Captain said, a little unnerved by the Doctor's rare use of his stolen name. "I think."

The Time Lord chuckled again and returned to his microscope, whilst a smiling Tosh crossed the lab to her own corner. Jack, watching them settle back into their respective tasks, made the mistake of meeting Tosh's eye and she lifted a thin tablet PC from the workbench beside her laptop, tilting it so he could see lists of figures upon the screen.

Jack made a face, but he reached out a hand to take it from her, resigned to his fate. He was within a hair's breadth of touching it when his wrist strap began to beep urgently and they both froze in expectation. A second later another alarm started up from Tosh's laptop, confirming the warning that the Rift was up to no good again.

Jack grinned at her, snatching his hand back and dashing off to investigate what would undoubtedly be more interesting than checking over data for Tosh.

* * *

The central chamber of the Hub was quiet, save the hum of machinery and the constant trickle of water. Both were sounds Ianto not only found inoffensive, but had also started to think of as incredibly calming, which was probably testament to just how much time he spent in the underground base those days.

The only counterpoint to the peaceful background noises was the shuffling of paper for which he was to blame, as he worked his way through the stacks of numbers at Tosh's bequest. She'd originally sent him a digital copy, but, just as he preferred to write by hand in his diary, he preferred to work on paper for certain other tasks, such as reading infinite lines of complex figures. He'd almost gone through an entire ink cartridge making so many hard copies, but better that than he miss something just because he'd diverted from his habitual methods at the wrong time.

Already more than halfway through his task, Ianto still wasn't entirely sure what the purpose of the job was, but he had been more than willing to help out if it would move along the process of building Gwen's new virus. As he set aside another page, Ianto smiled wryly at his own mind for giving Gwen possession of the life-altering agent. She probably wouldn't appreciate it, but considering that was usually how such things were named, it seemed appropriate.

His mind had been firmly on Tosh's numbers, but the thought of Gwen swung it back now to the subject hanging over them all. The young man hadn't been exaggerating when he'd said he thought the entire process should be far more complicated than the Doctor and his temporary assistants were making it sound. He'd only ever had a passing interest in the sciences at school, but even he knew what the trio were doing was something incredibly special indeed.

From his observations, as he'd passed numerous times through the laboratories that day, neither Tosh nor Owen felt the same wonder that he did. In fact they were taking everything perfectly in their stride, accepting all the possibilities that were opening up before them as though people rewrote DNA on a daily basis. Ianto suspected it was the Doctor's influence, and that his very presence was encouraging their minds out from beneath the restrictions created by their Earthly knowledge. Around him, they seemed to spark with ideas, whilst he deftly steered them in the right direction with a thoughtful noise or a comment about an interesting equation.

Of course it didn't hurt that the alien was able to fill some big gaps in the formulae himself just by looking at it, but Ianto could see that he was purposefully engaging the pair, drawing their clever minds up beyond the atmosphere so that they could help him with his task. It was wondrous to see, and by the conspiratorial smile the Time Lord had given him the last time he'd been down there, it was just as pleasing for the Doctor to be bringing out that side of them.

The alarm for the tourist office entrance blasted abruptly through the serene hush and Ianto marked his place on the current page before turning to watch the giant cog roll aside. Jack appeared, bounding through with his usual high level of energy following a successful job.

"Anything interesting?" Ianto asked, noting the dishevelled hair and what appeared to be fresh dark stains on the Captain's coat. Of course, considering the state it was already in, it was hard to be sure from a distance.

"Well the alert was for another..." Jack hesitated and glanced around to see if they were really alone. He moved over to the long workbench Ianto was working at and finished in a softer tone, "...disappearance."

Ianto frowned at him. "Another one?"

"I know, they're getting more frequent. I'd almost think the Rift had acquired a taste for people."

Ianto's frown darkened. "Jack," he admonished, but the immortal merely shrugged. "What else happened?" he asked, perfectly aware the immortal wouldn't be so pleased about a missing person.

Jack grinned and began to peel off the dirty coat. "On the way back to the SUV I stumbled on a pair of Weevils. They must have been nearby when the event happened and the energy riled them up because it looked like they were having a domestic or something, right out in the daylight. Of course when I tried to intervene it wasn't received very well."

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. This isn't my blood, I just got in the way." He moved towards his office, stained coat held sensibly away from his clean clothes.

It was impossible for Ianto to resist a chuckle, at both his actions and his words. "That makes a nice change. Did you stop them fighting?"

"Yeah, I sent them on their way before any limbs went flying." Jack turned around, walking backwards as he added, "_And_ all of this without any witnesses to deal with!"

Ianto was just lifting his hands in mocking applaud when Owen, carrying a full tray of bottles and test tubes, appeared at the top of the medical bay stairs, directly behind Jack. The Captain, his arms spread wide to receive Ianto's congratulations, stepped back and crashed right into the doctor.

There followed an awkward kind of ballet, where Owen frantically attempted to keep the tray from escaping the grasp of his one good hand and Jack tried to turn and see what he'd hit, only to knock the tray once again. Ianto, frozen behind his bench, watched the items on the tray tilt and slide, but Jack grabbed it just in time to stop everything crashing to the floor.

"Geez, watch where you're going!" Owen warned.

"Sorry." Jack righted a couple of the small bottles that had toppled over and handed back the metal tray. "Still, no harm done."

Owen responded with a wordless grumble and started to skirt around the immortal man, but Jack caught him by the shoulder. "Listen, Owen, we're...you know, okay, right?"

The medic looked at him in bemusement. "Well nothing got broken, so sure, I guess."

"Not the bottles." Jack sounded pained and he looked towards Ianto, seeking understanding from their witness. "I mean-"

"I know what you mean." Owen followed Jack's gaze and Ianto averted his eyes, wary of so openly eavesdropping. "And yes, we're fine. I admit I overreacted, but you really can't blame me. I get _why_ you had to do it, I just wish you didn't need to take that risk."

Jack seemed a little taken aback, as though he hadn't expected Owen to admit he'd been wrong, but he adapted swiftly and uselessly patted the medic's numb shoulder. "Me too," he agreed. "But there are many things we don't want to do in life."

"And death," Owen added with a roll of his eyes. Jack lifted his hand and Owen moved off again, heading back towards the labs. "Anyway," he said as left the large room, "I probably should have known Gwen'd be able to shrug off a bloody gunshot wound."

Jack cast an amused glance at Ianto before ducking into his office. When he reappeared a few moments later, his coat was absent and his hair had been teased once more into obedience. He made his way back to where Ianto stood and leaned against the opposite side of the workbench.

"So..." he began carefully. "We're okay too, aren't we?"

Ianto lifted an eyebrow, his mind flashing with the memory of their tussle in the playground. Jack caught his train of thought and smirked. "About _Gwen_," he said with a mock sigh. "Why do I have to keep qualifying that?"

The young Welshman gave a soft laugh. "Maybe we just like watching you struggle to talk about this deep and meaningful stuff."

"Hmm." Jack frowned and said no more.

"Besides, I thought we'd already discussed that last night. Or this morning. Whenever."

"Not really," Jack replied. "You questioned my faith in her ability to survive the wound, then we..." He quirked his own eyebrow as he trailed off.

"Got distracted?" Ianto offered.

"Exactly."

"Oh."

"So the question remains, are you angry at me for shooting her?"

Ianto's brow creased slightly. "Angry? No." He'd been confused about Jack's actions, not angry, though looking back perhaps his silent bewilderment could have appeared to echo Owen's verbal outrage. "No, of course not."

It seemed that some invisible burden lifted from Jack's shoulders and his expression grew open and happy again. "That's good," he said, shifting his attention to the paperwork spread out before him. "What's all this?"

"Tosh asked me to collate these figures."

"Mm," Jack hummed absently, circling the bench until the pages were no longer upside down. "Looks interesting."

Ianto gave a soft snort of dubious laughter. "Does it?"

"Mm," the Captain said again, coming up close to his young lover's side and finally diverting his eyes from the papers to Ianto's face.

The look was one Ianto recognised easily. "I'm really very busy," he pointed out.

"I'm not stopping you."

"Are you about to?"

Jack laughed and slid around to plaster himself against Ianto's back, settling his hands on the other's suited hips. "You smell nice," he murmured, pushing his nose behind one ear.

"I smell clean," Ianto corrected.

"You've been home."

"Yes, to shower and change." Ianto shifted, trying to ignore the weight against his back and the hands rubbing slowly over his hips. "You might want to do the same."

Jack saw through his ploy with ease and gently bit at his earlobe. "You love the way I smell after a fight."

His hands were pushing up beneath Ianto's jacket now, seeking the gap between trousers and waistcoat where only a thin shirt kept their skin apart. Ianto tamped down on the urge to move and picked up one of Tosh's pages. "That doesn't sound like something I'd say," Ianto protested. "Or think."

"You don't need to say it. I can tell by the way you _inhale_ me." To elaborate his point, Jack made a show of sniffing deeply at Ianto's neck, just as his fingertips dipping beneath the waistband of Ianto's trousers, still not touching skin but getting ever nearer.

The younger man bit his tongue to keep from whimpering. "I need to finish this for Tosh," he said lamely. He tried to focus on the numbers on the list in his hand but it was an almost impossible task when he knew Jack wouldn't relent unless Ianto _really_ wanted him to stop.

And Ianto couldn't truly say that he did.

"So carry on," Jack told him. "Your hands are free." He licked across the tender spot on Ianto's neck he'd made early that morning and Ianto gave a faint shiver. The bruise had been darkening all day and he'd been waiting for someone to say something, but fortunately it seemed they'd been too engrossed in their work to notice. Not that Jack had never marked him in so visible a place before, but this time it was likely to get him another bollocking from Owen, so all the better if it was overlooked for the time being.

Which reminded him... "Owen could come back," he said, purposefully ignoring the way his head was starting to tilt to give his lover better access.

Jack laughed against his neck. "He's caught us enough times, he's used to it."

"And the others?"

"Busy in the lab." Jack mouthed his way up to Ianto's jaw and pressed his lips to the freshly shaven skin there. "They've been making you run around after them all day, so they'll call for you rather than come out here themselves."

Ianto's head was turning of its own accord, blindly seeking contact. "Except Owen just now," he pointed out.

Jack met his lips, but kept the touch light, refusing to be drawn into anything deeper. "The exception," he murmured between kisses, "that proves...the rule."

His fingers moved around from Ianto's waist now to unfasten his trousers, easing one hand inside but keeping everything otherwise in place. The sensible part of Ianto's brain was grateful that he wasn't being exposed, as he'd been down in the garage, though he doubted anyone would be fooled as to what they were doing should they see Jack clinging to his body like a limpet.

When Jack pulled away from his mouth, Ianto looked down to where the older man's arm disappeared into the loosened clothing. Nope, definitely not going to be able to pretend they were doing anything other than what they were doing. As he watched, Jack, who had been merely tracing the line of his cock through his shorts, pressed harder against the concealed flesh, dragging his fingers along it with clear intent.

Ianto was already hard for him, his cock shamelessly eager despite his brain's reluctance, and when Jack slipped his hand into Ianto's shorts, the younger man sucked in a lungful of air through gritted teeth, anticipation getting the better of him.

"Are you enjoying the show?" Jack asked, resting his chin on Ianto's shoulder and peering down as well. He changed the angle of his arm, making the gap between material and skin wider and giving them both a better view.

A groan burst from Ianto's lips before he could stop it, the visual accompaniment to the sensation of Jack's touch making his arousal spike even quicker. He had to marvel at his own stamina; for the past few days they'd been even more active than usual, and yet here he was almost ready to come with only a few strokes of Jack's strong callused hand.

Of course that could have been due to all the recent brushes with death...they tended to have that effect on the both of them, Ianto noted wryly.

In his grasp, the page he'd been pretending to work on crinkled loudly as his fingers reflexively curled into a fist, and Ianto dropped it before he could ruin it completely. His hand, now lacking a purpose, first went to grip the edge of the workbench alongside the other, then diverted and reached behind him, unerringly finding the bulge of Jack's erection and palming it enthusiastically.

Jack laughed and rocked into the massaging hand, his own hand moving faster and with more pressure. Whether it was intentional or not, Ianto spotted the correlation instantly and went straight to work opening Jack's trousers and enclosing the hard shaft in the circle of his fingers.

The Captain rewarded him with an even swifter pace and Ianto matched it, his head dropping back onto Jack's shoulder whilst the immortal's mouth latched once again onto his abused neck. Jack's free hand headed down now as well, gliding over the heated skin of Ianto's lower stomach, past his already busy fist, and sliding over the young man's balls.

The soft motion was a distinct counterpoint to the attention on Ianto's cock and it was enough to make him writhe and squirm for more of the light touch. He wanted to curse his lover for knowing how to make him fall apart so easily, but there simply wasn't enough air left in his lungs to form words. Instead he held on tighter to the workbench, fearful of his legs giving out, and allowed the sensations to consume him. It didn't take much longer to find his release, (not that he was really trying to avoid it) and he came with a muted cry, recalling at the last moment just where they were standing.

Jack removed his hand immediately, considerately taking away the palmful of Ianto's seed before it could get over his clothing, but he replaced it with his clean hand, and gently fondled the young man down from his orgasm. "You stopped watching," Jack murmured into his ear.

After taking a moment to remember how to breathe again, Ianto responded, "I had a fair idea what was going on."

Jack was still thrusting steadily into his hand and Ianto twisted his wrist as he stroked, drawing a low moan from the Captain that vibrated through his lips into Ianto's throat. On the next upward pull, Ianto rubbed his palm over the leaking head and Jack was forced to stop his attentions on his lover's neck and concentrate on his own breathing.

Ianto's arm was starting to ache from the awkward position, so he turned, ruefully dislodging Jack's hand on his own spent dick, but ensuring he could now see the faint flush on the older man's cheeks and the heavy-lidded gaze that revealed his pleasure. He smiled, lifting his arm to thread the fingers of his left hand into Jack's hair and leaned in to capture the parted lips. Jack gave another moan, louder this time but lost inside Ianto's mouth, and he reached around his lover to lean against the workbench.

Pinned in place, Ianto smiled at the faint tremble growing in Jack's body. He gave another pass of his palm over the top of Jack's cock and ran his other hand down to the back of Jack's neck, caressing lightly at the sensitive spot at the top of his spine. A burst of energy had Jack taking control of the kiss, pushing his tongue firmly into Ianto's mouth, and then he was coming, hot semen coating both Ianto's fingers and Jack's cock as he milked out every last drop. The kiss broke when Jack ran out of air, though he moved only a few inches back, so as not to dislodge their embrace.

"You stopped watching too," Ianto smugly pointed out, and Jack pried open his eyes to level a false glare at his lover. Ianto chuckled and withdrew his hands. He retrieved a handkerchief from a pocket and wiped Jack's seed from his hand then did the same for the other man. Jack smiled at the gesture and drew him back in for another soft kiss before stepping away and fastening his trousers again.

Ianto straightened his own clothes, relieved to note he wasn't too rumpled from the encounter, and swung his gaze over the work still spread out before him. "I don't suppose you want to-" He cut himself off as he looked up to find Jack nowhere in sight and rolled his eyes, sure Jack had disappeared on purpose to avoid helping out.

With a sigh, Ianto retrieved the crumpled page he'd been holding before, smoothed it out as best he could and picked up his pen.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Ianto made his weary way down to the labs to find Tosh. "Here you go," Ianto declared, leaning past her to bring up the file he'd finally completed onto the laptop screen. "All done."

"That's fantastic," she replied, quickly glancing over the data. "Thank you, Ianto."

"Glad to help, and it was so _interesting _as well. It was practically the perfect way to spend my afternoon."

Tosh giggled and gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry. I did try to get Jack to do it but an alert came in."

"Really?" Ianto asked. "How convenient."

"I sometimes wonder if he's got a button on his wrist strap that sets off a false alarm to get him out of these things," Tosh confided.

"I wouldn't be surprised." Ianto glanced around the room; it was empty other than themselves, but it looked as though a herd of wild animals had recently stampeded through, considering the mess of paper, vials of colourful liquids, empty mugs and dirty plates strewn around. He frowned and started to reach for the nearest pile of debris. "I'll just have a bit of a tidy up in here," he said, trying not to sound reproachful.

"Actually," said Tosh, "I was wondering if you'd do something else for me?"

He looked up, a sense of foreboding settling upon him. "Not more collations?"

She laughed again. "No, no more of those. I was actually hoping you'd help solve a little problem that's been bothering Owen and the Doctor and myself. And Rhys for that matter. And probably Gwen, if she was able to tell us."

Ianto cocked his head, intrigued and rather worried that he hadn't realised there was any such problem with all of them. "What's the matter?"

Tosh bit her lip, glanced to the doorway to make sure it was still empty, then leaned forward. "It's Jack," she stage-whispered. "He's been getting under everyone's feet, especially Owen and Rhys. I'm sure one of them is going to punch him soon."

Ianto opened his mouth to suggest he'd done his part in keeping Jack occupied earlier, then realised Tosh probably didn't want to hear about that.

"Okay," he reluctantly agreed. "But you'll owe me one."

"One what?"

"I don't know yet." Ianto peered at her for a moment, letting her squirm. "But when I call it in, I'll make sure it has something to do with entertaining Jack when he's bored."


	21. Chapter 20

**A/N: ****This chapter was getting pretty long so I decided to split it to avoid an even longer wait for you guys.** **Also both halves get a little introspective-y, so you might well appreciate the breathing space between them!**

**Oh and this was edited and uploaded on holiday, on my iPad, so sorry if there are more mistakes than usual!**

* * *

It was Thursday morning, five days since the Doctor had arrived, three and a half since they'd retrieved Gwen from cryo and discovered her altered condition, and at Owen's request, or more specifically demand, everyone had gathered in the boardroom for an urgent meeting. He and Rhys were the last to arrive and the others abandoned their exchange of concerned glances to look up at them, seeking the reason for the meeting upon their faces.

Ianto frowned as he recognised the deep worry in their features, heart sinking at the notion of yet another problem disrupting their attempts to help Gwen. Everyone had been working through the night on the virus, or at least on helping those working on the virus - Rhys keeping a dutiful eye on Gwen and Ianto running interference to stop Jack from pestering the others too frequently - and the last thing they needed was to hear more bad news.

Rhys pulled out the nearest chair and collapsed into it whilst Owen's dark eyes quickly counted heads to make sure everyone was there. "Okay," he declared, striding across the room. "We've got to get moving on this." The controls for the large wall-mounted screen were at the end of the long table and he thumped hard at the keys, bringing up a still image of Gwen. It had been taken from one of the cameras dotted around the cells, so it was looking down at her from a high corner, but the subject was still clear despite the odd angle.

"This is an hour ago," he explained, hitting another button and setting the video playing.

On the screen Gwen started prowling, the same path she'd been following all day since waking in confinement.

"What are we looking for?" Jack asked from Ianto's side, but the young man immediately noticed the difference from the last time he'd seen her. The speed of her pacing was getting slower, her movements becoming sluggish. It was hardly a surprise considering her wound and the constant restless movement, and yet clearly there was something else coming, if the tension radiating from Rhys was anything to go by.

"Wait a minute," the medic said, his eyes fixed on the screen.

They waited and watched and when Gwen's steps faltered and she dropped to one knee they collectively took a sharp intake of breath. Through the clear wall at the side of the screen they could see Rhys jumping from his chair and moving to the invisible barrier.

"What happened?" Jack demanded, looking at first to Owen then Rhys.

"She just collapsed," Rhys replied with a tired shrug. He looked terrible, Ianto noted, even though they'd been forcing him to eat and sleep at regular intervals. Anxiety had painted dark shadows around his eyes and he slumped low in his seat, entirely devoid of energy, as though he'd begun grieving for his fiancée all over again.

"Keep watching," Owen told them and everyone swung their attention back to the screen.

Gwen's hands were flat upon the clear wall as she pulled herself back to her feet, stumbling a little, but eventually getting there. She began pacing again almost immediately, whilst video-Rhys stood motionless outside her cell, the distress on his face clear as day.

"She gives it a good go," Owen narrated, as Gwen lurched from side to side, her motions jerky and unnatural. A few moments later she just about threw herself at the low shelf that served as the cell's bed and dropped onto the pile of blankets she'd been wrapped in when moved down there. A hand went to her chest and she seemed to be struggling to breathe.

No one could speak, merely watch as the silent recording showed Gwen gasping for air. With her skin now grey, it was hard to see her expression on the screen, but her actions spoke loudly enough, especially the clawed hands that tore at her medical gown.

"I'm on my way down there by this point," Owen murmured, perhaps feeling the need to reassure them. Then added, "This is where she starts coughing."

Right on cue, Gwen's mouth opened and her head dropped forward, her back hunching and starting to shake so violently it looked like she could be having a fit.

"It won't be obvious on here, but there's blood in her phlegm."

Jack looked sharply away from the convulsing woman. "Blood?" he repeated.

Owen's gaze never left the screen. "Yep," he confirmed bluntly . "Okay, I'm there now." Sure enough Owen had materialised at Rhys' side and both of them were peering into the cell. Their lips moved and brows furrowed and then Owen was off again out of shot. "I'm activating the airborne sedative in her cell, but watch..."

The shudders of Gwen's back had slowed into the undulation of deep breathing and all of a sudden she pushed herself upright to once again resume her pacing. She was still slow, but there was no other sign of her being troubled by the episode that had just occurred.

Owen stopped the playback and turned to face the room. "The sedatives started to work shortly after that and she made it back to the bed before passing out," he told them. "I went in there to examine her and whilst her breathing is somewhat laboured, she's still getting enough oxygen for the time being. Internally is another matter; there's a rattle on her lungs and obviously the blood she coughed up is a sign of trouble too. Her heart rate and blood pressure are both way above where I'd like them to be. There's more, and I'm still running tests now, but it boils down to the fact her internal organs are really starting to struggle."

"Like when she first caught the virus?" Ianto asked, grimly recalling the image of Gwen upon her sickbed, her skin bubbling with sores and her life fading away before their eyes.

The very reason they'd put her into cryo was because of similar internal problems and they hadn't wanted her body to give out entirely before they could find a cure. Even though the virus had continued developing despite the freezing process, those issues had been resolved, the alterations to her DNA somehow meaning her body had stopped failing as well. They had actually been relieved, after recovering from the shock of her grey scaly skin, that the virus had seemed to fix its host on its own.

Of course when she'd continued to change, that relief was soon replaced by concern once again.

"How could she have gotten better and then worse again?" he added.

"Considering everything else we've seen this virus do so far, I'm not surprised," Owen replied. "I couldn't say precisely why it's done this now, but I'd guess, though it made her strong for a while, her body just can't handle the extreme changes any more." He rubbed at his forehead, a leftover gesture from when he was still alive. "Sometimes," he began awkwardly, "when patients at the hospital were close to dying, they'd get a burst of energy beforehand."

At the opposite end of the table, Rhys inhaled audibly, his eyes slipping shut as he tried to control his reaction to Owen's words. Ianto felt his own chest tighten at the pain in the older Welshman's expression but he knew Rhys was not likely to accept any platitudes, so held his tongue.

"She was running around the city for most of a day," Jack pointed out. "That's more than just a burst of energy."

Owen shrugged. "It's the only explanation I've got right now. Besides, the why isn't important, not whilst Gwen's in danger. We have to give her the virus now."

"Is it ready?"

"Technically, yes."

The Captain squinted at him "But...?"

"But normally we'd put something like this through a shit-load of tests before actually exposing someone to it."

"And that would take time," Jack finished with a nod. "Well if she's deteriorating as quickly as it sounds then it's a risk we're going to have to take."

Ianto waited for a moment but it seemed no one else was going to ask the question that seemed quite vital to him. "Not to sound the pessimist," he said, "but without any testing, how can you be sure it's not going to, you know, kill her or anything."

Rhys sat up straight in his chair, eyes round and fearful. "Yes," he choked out. "What if it...does more damage?"

"Obviously they'll test that," Jack responded, before Owen could even open his mouth.

The medic gave him a bewildered look. "Eh? You just said-"

"On _me_," the immortal qualified.

Owen's expression became alarmed. "No, Jack, no way. We can't give you a virus like this."

"Why not? If I die from it, then better me than Gwen, and if it does what it's meant to..." He paused to grin around the table. "Well then maybe I'll let one of you have the pleasure of killing me."

Ianto was dumbstruck at the Captain's nonchalance; could he not see the problem here?

Fortunately Owen hadn't lost his tongue and he shook his head firmly. "No one's going to intentionally kill you, you idiot, and we're not infected you either."

"I have to agree with Dr. Harper," the Doctor put in. "We designed the virus for Gwen's current genetic makeup, there's no saying what it would do to anyone else."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Again, a risk we have to take."

"Think about it Jack," Ianto waded in. "If it worked, who's to say the changes to your DNA would be reset by death?"

The Captain hesitated, but his stubbornness soon got him talking again. "They wouldn't be big changes," he declared. "Doctor, you said the Mynars are descendants of a human colony? They differ more internally than externally, right?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"Then the odds are acceptable."

Ianto sighed with frustration, unable to tell if Jack was being obtuse on purpose or if he truly hadn't connected all the dots. "And what if it turned you into a monster?!" he demanded sharply. "What if it messed with your DNA so much that you became something awful? What if you lost everything that makes you _you_? And what if, even if you died and came back, you stayed that way forever?"

Jack looked rather taken aback by Ianto's tirade, even swallowing visibly at the last grim suggestion. He hadn't considered it then, or at least hadn't allowed himself to consider it, and Ianto's anger ebbed into urgency, desperate to make him understand. "God knows I don't want Gwen to die, especially not by some fault of our own, nor do I want you to die, permanently I mean. But more than that, the possibility that you could become some awful mindless beast that could _never_ die..." he shuddered, unable to go on as his imagination threw up images of Jack, or whatever remained of him at least, being either contained for the rest of his eternal life or else running wild, out of control and likely to harm any unfortunate souls who got in his way.

The sound of Jack's chair scraping along the floor reverberated loudly around the hushed room as he stood and turned his back on everyone there.

"You know he's right," the Doctor said solemnly. "You're an unknown entity in the universe, remember? There's no way to be sure what any kind of virus would do to you, especially one as devastating as this."

"And Gwen wouldn't allow it," Rhys announced. Ianto glanced across and found the other man leaning forward, his gaze locked on the Captain's back. "Bloody hell, think how she'd react if she found out you'd risked _that_ for her! She's got more than enough reasons to feeling guilty already after killing you, killing that poor woman and hurting all those others. Do you really think she should have whatever might happen to you on her conscience as well?!"

"Do you want her death on yours?" Jack countered, though he didn't turn around.

"This isn't about me," Rhys said. He sounded pained by the truth in his own words, but he went on anyway. "It's about what Gwen would want."

Even from behind, Ianto could see the tension in Jack's shoulders, the strain of knowing he could do _some_thing but at the same time unable to deny it was an incredible gamble. He stood and approached the immortal, resisting the urge to rest a hand on the other's back. "Jack," he murmured. "Please."

At his side now, Ianto was able to see the helplessness on his lover's face and his initial hesitation to touch Jack in front of the others vanished. He lifted his hand to Jack's forearm, where it hung limply at his side, and traced the limb down, curling his fingers around the side of Jack's hand and squeezing. He wasn't about to entwine their fingers right there with everyone watching, but the rarity of such contact in the presence of others was enough to reveal his concern for his lover. Jack turned his head to the side, palm flexing as he squeezed back.

There was no need for any more debate, Jack's eyes told Ianto everything he needed to know. The older man wasn't happy about the situation, but then none of them were particularly ecstatic about giving Gwen an untested virus either. He hoped Jack could see that in his own eyes, that they weren't arguing for the sake of it, only because they cared for his safety.

The Captain's shoulders slumped in defeat but, as he twisted his fingers around Ianto's, he smiled ruefully and said, "Okay."

* * *

They had all gone down to Gwen's cell together, as quiet and somber as a funeral procession. She'd moved from the hard inbuilt bed into a far corner of the small room, taking the blankets with her so she was cocooned in a nest of her own making. What was visible of her grey face had been paler than before, and the suspicious dark eyes peering out from between the folds of blood-spotted material seemed large and piteous.

After flooding the cell once again with the unique sedative he, Tosh and the Doctor had adapted to affect only her, Owen had wasted no time in ushering Jack inside to see if her nodding head was a feint or not. There had been a weak swipe of one thin scaly arm, but the dark claws got nowhere near to the immortal before the limb dropped heavily onto the pile of blankets once again.

Reassured, Owen had followed him in and injected her with the virus right there and then, saying he wanted to get everything rolling as soon as possible. They'd then all worked together to move her carefully up to the medical bay, where she now lay strapped to the metal table and connected to a circle of machines that beeped or flashed or sent a complex list of numbers to the screen at which Owen had spent most of the day staring.

Tosh had been the first to succumb to her fatigue, sleeping even as she stood leaning against one of the beeping machines. Jack had carried her to one of the Hub's overnight rooms where she'd stirred as he set her down on top of the covers. She started to mumble a protest, but had drifted off again without even finishing speaking. He'd covered her with the other half of the duvet and debated briefly the odds of getting her to agree to taking a holiday after all this was over. She might not have suffered any injuries during the course of the past few days, but she'd certainly worked hard enough to deserve a good rest. One spent _away_ from the Hub and any dangerous occupants it might currently be housing.

Rhys had sat himself on the tiled steps after being banished from Gwen's side by Owen for getting underfoot. He'd begun simply staring at his love, occasionally asking what a certain machine was for or why Owen was doing whatever he was doing, but soon he'd begun to doze against the cold upright bars of the handrail beside him. Ianto had gently shaken him awake to suggest he lie down somewhere more comfortable, only to be threatened with bodily harm if he tried to make the older man move. Faintly amused, Ianto hadn't pushed the matter, but he had fetched a clean blanket to wrap around Rhys as a compromise and shortly after that, soft snores could be heard coming from the bundle on the steps.

Assured by Owen that they could do nothing but wait, Jack and Ianto had retreated to the old sofa above, where they'd sat together in silence, shoulders and thighs touching, until Ianto's head began to loll. Jack had swallowed a laugh and wrapped an arm around his lover, pulling him against his side, and now the young man was sleeping soundly, leaving Jack alone with his thoughts.

Hours had passed since they'd exposed Gwen to the new virus, though Jack couldn't say how many at that point. He could hear Owen moving around down behind him, but the medic had orders to report the minute anything changed so he knew there was no need to check up on Gwen's condition yet. Instead his thoughts drifted to the Doctor, who had disappeared early on in their vigil, heading back to whatever kept tempting him away from everyone else. Jack suspected he was nosing through the archives, examining the eclectic mix of artifacts Torchwood had acquired over the years or perhaps reading over private records on the mainframe he would undoubtedly be able to unlock with ease.

The Captain smiled to himself, remembering his journeys in the TARDIS and the thrill the Time Lord displayed for new discoveries and unexpected twists of fate. It had started off as a complicated companionship, Jack originally hoping only to get back his stolen memories through whatever means necessary, but as he'd relented and fallen beneath the Doctor's spell, he'd come to realise he shared the alien's love for exploration.

Travelling with the Doctor had drawn him out from the shadow of his work as a Time Agent, a shadow which had been all-consuming. He'd come to enjoy helping those in need, and the Doctor's often intuitive methods were a distinct change from following every order the Agency gave him without question. Even when he'd been touched by the Vortex and denied his death, that enjoyment hadn't dissipated. He'd been given an ability he hadn't asked for, but after the initial surprise and anger had melted away, he'd realised it could be used for great things, things that could possibly cleanse his soul of all his past mistakes.

Part of him yearned to travel with the Doctor again, though he wasn't confident of being granted that boon, considering the faint unease that continued to trouble the Time Lord whenever Jack was nearby. It was a fantasy he couldn't help considering every now and then, but he was always brought back down to Earth by thoughts of everything he was responsible for at Torchwood. The Rift, most definitely, but also the people who had become so entwined with it that they would likely struggle to do any other kind of work for the rest of their lives.

Jack sighed quietly, thinking of Owen's death and Gwen's illness. He was lucky to have such strong, loyal individuals helping him guard the Rift, but the guilt of their suffering was proving a heavy weight to bear. He hadn't realised the implications of taking command of Three, (though in retrospect, the way Alex had dealt with the new Millennium should perhaps have tipped him off) but there wasn't much he could do about it now. The others would never accept being sent away for their own safety and the thought of being left alone in the Hub again wasn't particularly appealing to Jack either.

As though disturbed by his gloomy thoughts, Ianto stirred and shifted closer to Jack, slipping an arm across his stomach in a loose embrace. The Captain smiled and gently rubbed the younger man's back, grateful for the reassuring warmth of a living body against his own. More than that, he was grateful Ianto was slowly coming around to the idea of being more public with certain affectionate behaviour.

He knew Ianto didn't need hearts and flowers and pretty words to make him happy, but after all they'd explored concerning his submissive tendencies, it was clear he'd needed to be shown it was all right to relinquish control every now and then, in front of others as well as in the bedroom. For him to be wrapping himself around Jack now in such a trusting and relaxed manner where anyone could witness the tender display was a far cry from when they'd first started fooling around. He'd been almost obsessive back then, insisting that no one could find out about their 'fling' and making various trite comments about office politics. Even the fact they hardly worked in a normal office environment couldn't ease his paranoia about being discovered. Jack had thought it mere bashfulness that kept him so secretive, but now he knew better.

Ianto had needed to learn that putting his faith in another person wouldn't end in disaster and that the emotional release of trusting another implicitly was a wonderful thing indeed. Granted, Jack had realised that in one of the worst possible ways, but he'd been more than happy to try and help Ianto uncover the true driving force that had started him experimenting with masochism. Yes, he'd found he possessed his own little kink for domination, but more than that he'd been glad to be of assistance; especially if he looked back to when he had first known the young man.

At that time, Ianto had been hiding something that threatened not only countless lives, but also his own fragile heart. Because of Lisa, he had to be aware of everything around him, wary of any slip that could reveal his dangerous secret. The only reason he'd been able to keep her presence in the Hub concealed for so long was because of his strict self-control, and Jack suspected his resulting emotional numbness had stemmed from that. Losing Lisa the way he had, first at One, then slowly as her body gave out, and finally during the harrowing events following her escape, was more than anyone deserved to experience. It was no wonder that afterwards he'd continued to cling to his mask of deception, to pretend that everything was fine, whilst underneath he ached and started to fade away.

Jack could only feel immense relief for whatever had made Ianto dare the simple suggestive comment about stopwatches to him. Perhaps it had been second betrayal and death of Suzie, or the near-death of Gwen, but whatever had pushed Ianto to tentatively reach out by propositioning Jack had clearly been the start of his slow swing back up and away from the repression of his emotions. He could never be sure what might have become of Ianto had the darkness fully taken hold of him, but Jack could imagine he would be little more than a shell of the man he was now.

The thought chilled the Captain. A being as bright as Ianto should never have been allowed to dull so much, but more than that, somewhere in the past year or so, Jack had come to rely on him. He hadn't truly realised or admitted it to himself until the Welshman had started to withdraw into himself again after the incident with Lurrelia, but the connection had been there for a long time, right under his nose.

He wasn't sure how it had happened; in the past he had always been able to keep a certain distance between himself and his mortal lovers and friends. Even when he had fallen hopelessly in love with someone, his feelings had always been tainted with the promise of death and solitude and expectation of the loneliness that was to come.

With Ianto however, it seemed different. Partly because Jack _hadn't_ fallen hopelessly in love with him, and partly because he was an exceptional man, the kind of which Jack had never met before.

Ianto was the first person who had actually come the closest to understanding Jack, to understanding the true gravity of his circumstances. Others had thought they had him figured out, proclaiming that they could imagine how he felt about his immortality, but they hadn't a clue between them. Ianto, however, didn't profess to truly understand, and by that simple fact he was the nearest to comprehension of the bunch.

Ianto had the uncanny knack of knowing what someone needed, often before that person knew themselves. It was the reason he was so good at the role he'd taken up at Torchwood Three; tending to the team even as he worked on his own projects and accompanied them into the field. He had picked up on Jack's needs just as easily, though they were different to those of most other people. He knew when Jack wanted to be left alone or distracted and he knew when Jack needed to be pushed or questioned or listened to. He also knew precisely what was required in each of those cases to satisfy him, doing his best to make sure those solutions were available to the Captain or finding a substitute that would suffice in the meantime if they weren't.

He understood Jack's tumultuous relationship with his immortality and his past, knew of the dark terrors that lingered in his memories and instead of trying to make him face those horrors, instead of trying to _fix_ him, Ianto simply let him be himself.

He didn't try to change Jack, didn't try to force him to become something he could never be, like so many others had before. Previous lovers had believed their relationship with the unique Captain gave them a right to expect certain things of him, things that pained him to offer. They had not thoroughly considered what such pledges and sacrifices would do to someone who would perpetually outlive them.

Ianto didn't ask anything like that and Jack found it wonderfully refreshing. Ianto provided him with everything he needed and Jack had welcomed being looked after, not realising at the time that in relying on Ianto even in such an innocent way, he was setting himself up for just as hard a fall as when he committed himself to one lover for their lifetime. It would be worse as well, because where he had always kept a part of himself hidden from those lovers, Ianto could already see through him into that secret box locked away deep in his heart.

And yet despite all that, despite the fact it terrified Jack to realise he was so completely exposed to the young man, he couldn't bring himself to pull away from him, even to protect his fractured soul. It wasn't even a notion he could entertain for long before deeming it utterly and completely impossible.

Jack smiled wryly down at the dark head resting on his shoulder. Perhaps he had fallen just a little in love with Ianto after all.

* * *

Ianto slipped back into consciousness slowly, his mind awakening with reluctance. He was warm and comfortable and the pillow around which he was wrapped rose and fell in a relaxing rhythm. He smiled into the soft material beneath his face, inhaling the clean musk he knew well and wishing his thoughts could stop there, before they reminded him of all the reasons why he shouldn't be lazing about.

There was an arm looped around his back, a strong hand resting on his side, and fingers had begun stroking lightly up and down, telling him his pillow was aware of his gradual awakening. He squeezed his own hand, where it curled over the other man's hip, and tilted his head back.

"Morning," Jack murmured and Ianto blinked dozily at him.

"It's morning?" he asked, trying to remember precisely when he'd fallen asleep.

"No, but greeting you with 'afternoon' felt odd."

Ianto gave a snort of amusement and pulled away a little before the awkward angle could start to trouble his neck.

"Sleep well?" Jack's voice was low, keeping the conversation between just the two of them, though Ianto couldn't see anybody else nearby.

"I don't think I'll sleep well until all this is sorted," Ianto replied, instinctively matching his lover's tone. "Then of course the next threat against the world will turn up and it'll start all over again."

"Pessimist," Jack accused, though he said it with fondness. He leaned forward to press his lips against Ianto's temple and Ianto's eyes slid shut again, head falling back as he sought the other's mouth in response.

The sound of footsteps interrupted his quest and he reluctantly sat up, disentangling himself from his lover. Jack gave a rueful smile and lifted his arm to the back of the sofa as they both turned to watch Owen's approach.

The medic reached the top of the stairs, giving his own wry smile as he realised they were looking at him expectantly.

"Anything?" Jack asked.

"Lots," Owen replied. He shoved aside some of the detritus on the coffee table in front of them and sat down on the edge. When he spoke, his tone was hushed, suggesting Rhys was still asleep on the steps close by. "Outwardly she's no different, and I doubt that'll change for a while, but internally I'm finally seeing improvement. Both her heart rate and her blood pressure are down; not by enough, but they're getting there. She's on oxygen but I haven't had to intubate her, so her lungs are stabilising as well. She _has _got a particularly high fever, though that will be due to the viruses and to be expected."

Ianto relaxed further into the sofa cushions, his tense poise eased by Owen's news. Without knowing what the new virus would do to the old, it had been impossible to predict how long it would take for changes to start showing. Ianto silently thanked whichever deity was listening that it seemed to have taken hold before Gwen had deteriorated any further.

Beside him Jack nodded along with Owen's words. "Okay," he said. "That sounds promising. Is it?"

The doctor spread the empty fingers of his one good hand. "I'd allow for a little optimism," he told the Captain. "Basically things look to be swinging in her favour, but I have no way of knowing quite how far this new virus will go. I'm going to keep her sedated as long as I safely can to give her body time to adjust to what's happening to it, which means for the next six hours or so there'll be nothing for you to see or do for her here." He turned a sharp glare on Ianto, who was in the middle of tiredly rubbing his eyes. "So I suggest you go get some proper sleep."

"I've just been sleeping," Ianto protested.

"An hour or so napping is not enough. I know you've not had a full night for days now and it's starting to show."

Ianto narrowed his eyes at Owen, hating the idea that he looked as worn down as he felt. In truth he was suffering the strain of the last few days, both physically and mentally, but he refused to put himself ahead of any of the others.

"Are you going to suggest that to Tosh as well?" he asked bitterly.

"As far as I'm aware Tosh is still out for the count, so I hardly need to, do I?"

"And Rhys?"

Owen snorted a laugh. "Yeah right, I rather like my head attached to my body thanks."

Jack's hand slid from the back of the sofa to Ianto's shoulder once again. "He's right, you should probably take the chance to go home for a bit."

"Mm," Ianto said, unimpressed. "And will you rest too?"

The immortal's wrist strap began beeping, just as the bank of monitors on Tosh's workstation burst into life, and they all straightened, peering over at the warning flashing across the screens.

"Weevils again," Owen read first, sounding relieved that it was nothing more serious.

Ianto scowled at the device wrapped around his lover's wrist. "Are you pressing that button again?"

"What button?" Jack asked, levering himself upright and heading off towards his office.

"Never mind." Ianto got to his feet as well, rubbing his hands over his face and stifling a yawn.

Owen eyed him suspiciously. "Where are you going?"

"With Jack," he replied, immediately regretting his honesty as one of Owen's eyebrows began to creep upwards. "To get a lift home?" he added warily, offering an innocent smile he doubted he was entirely pulling off.

Jack had returned by then, coat draped over one arm whilst he loaded his Webley. "I'll make sure he gets some rest," he told Owen, sweeping by with determined steps. "You concentrate on Gwen."

Ianto gave Owen another weak smile and grabbed his jacket from the back of Tosh's chair, hurrying after the Captain before Owen could protest any further.


	22. Chapter 21

**A/N: So I recently had a real flamey review of The Undeniable. I deleted it because of copious swearing and, frankly, some abuse towards myself that I felt was uncalled for. Mention of my causing mental trauma to rape victims was in there, as well as what seemed to be a rant about non-fluffy Janto stories (O_o) I'm sure I can't be held responsible for everyone else's work, nor do I feel I should be sorry for writing something that's angsty, especially when I _did _warn of non-con situations, despite my anonymous flamer's claims.**

**ANYway, despite the rather rude approach, I was reminded that I'd hoped to amend the rather controversial scene in The Undeniable that many readers seem to take issue with. Of course I completely forgot, which explains why it's two years later and I'm only just getting around to it. (Yikes...) If any of you remember the last big scene (in Chapter 18) and weren't happy with what Jack did back then, I invite you to go skim it again and see if this new version works any better for you.**

**Rightio, back to business!**

* * *

"They were definitely the pair I saw before," Jack insisted, practically falling through the door he'd just finished unlocking.

Ianto followed more serenely behind, wondering in bemusement why the older man was leading the way into _his_ flat. "They were on the other side of the city."

"And? They travel fast when they want to."

"So you can tell them apart now?"

Jack turned to him with mock astonishment upon his face. "Are you saying you think they all look the same?"

Ianto rolled his eyes and shrugged off his jacket. There was a large smear of mud across the back, where he'd been knocked into a puddle by one of the brawling Weevils, but thankfully it hadn't been torn, like so many other articles of his clothing in recent days.

Jack took the jacket from him and threw it carelessly aside, placing himself in Ianto's personal space instead. "Now, I believe," he drawled, "before the Weevils, and before Owen, we were about to..." He trailed off and took hold of the younger man's face, bringing their lips together lightly. It was a tender kiss, unhurried and undemanding, and Ianto's entire world shrunk down to the sensation of Jack's mouth moving languidly against his own.

They parted after what seemed like an age and Ianto smiled faintly, feeling almost shy now they were alone. "Are you going back?" he asked.

"I need to make sure you follow doctor's orders and rest." His hands drifted downwards and Ianto trembled as the warm pads of Jack's fingers ghosted over his neck.

"That didn't seem to matter when you took me along to deal with those Weevils."

Jack smirked and continued running his hands down past Ianto's collar onto his chest. "Two heads are better than one." Ignoring Ianto's rolling eyes, he bypassed the buttons of the young Welshman's waistcoat, smoothing his way over the hidden lumps and bumps of the bandages beneath.

"This isn't going to lead to any kind of rest," Ianto warned. He was amused by Jack's blatant perusal, but what made his chest tighten was the slight crinkling upon the immortal's brow as he made sure Ianto's injuries hadn't worsened during their brief tussle with the Weevils.

"It is," came the response. "Eventually." Jack's frown was replaced by a sly look and he stepped back, taking Ianto's hand and pulling gently to make him follow. He led the way through the small flat to the bedroom in silence and Ianto didn't feel the need to break it, enjoying instead the way the atmosphere thrummed between them. It felt as though things had changed again, the distance between them growing even shorter, and Ianto's skin tingled with anticipation of delving into that closeness.

Jack turned as he reached the foot of the large bed and caught Ianto in his arms, resuming the lazy kiss without another word. They began to undress each other, slowly peeling off each item of clothing, and when the first sign of bare flesh appeared, Jack broke away from his lover's lips to explore first a shoulder then the collarbone beneath. His mouth lavished attention upon the narrow stretch of skin above the mass of bandages whilst his hands moved aside the open shirt and repeated the path he'd taken earlier, sweeping over the hidden wounds.

Ianto obligingly shook the sleeves from his arms and returned his own hands to Jack's t-shirt-clad back. He traced the muscles beneath the soft material, feeling them slide and bunch as the older man moved. He knew them well, just as he knew the sensation of Jack's mouth, but this time it felt like he was learning everything afresh: the smooth muscles within his lover's skin, the heady smell of his body and the tickle of his hair as it brushed unintentionally against his face. He dragged in a shuddering breath, his head light with the realisation that he held such an amazing specimen of life in his arms.

Jack pulled back at the sound, catching Ianto's gaze and looking past the blown pupils. He smiled, then grinned, then kissed him again and in response Ianto surged into action, dragging the t-shirt up and over the other's head, their lips unwillingly parting only for the fraction of a second required to let the material pass.

They were on the bed before Ianto could register pushing the other man down, but Jack was apparently not troubled at all, squirming eagerly beneath him to reach his trousers and push them away. He placed his hands on Ianto's ribs and bodily moved the younger man over him and up the bed, where he only just managed to regain his balance before Jack's mouth closed around his heavy shaft.

Ianto's gasp turned into a moan in the same exhalation and he dropped from his hands to his elbows, arms shaking too much to support his weight. He arched his back and bent his head, watching his flesh slide between Jack's wet lips. There were hands on the backs of his thighs, encouraging him to rock forward, though Ianto really didn't need the cue. He pushed quite happily into the other's mouth, but kept the pace slow despite the physical urge to do otherwise, not wanting everything to be over so soon.

When he was thoroughly wet, and dubious about his ability to hold back any longer, Ianto reluctantly eased himself free and crawled back down over the other man. He had to climb off his lover, not trusting his injured body to remain on hands and knees for much longer, but Jack rolled with him, until they were on their sides, facing each other. Ianto kicked off his underwear and trousers, where they'd clung stubbornly to one foot, then contorted himself to pull off his socks as well, Jack mirroring him until they were both completely naked, at which point the space remaining between them vanished once again.

Their tongues slid together in a slow dance whilst Ianto touched everything he could reach, desperate for more contact, for more proof that this amazing man was really there with him. It was rather foolish, the logical voice in his head distantly pointed out, considering just how many times they'd slept together, and especially considering how much they had shared in recent months, but it felt almost as though Ianto had realised for the very first time just how lucky he had been to capture the attention of the inimitable Captain.

Jack was trying to reciprocate the caresses, but his movements kept impeding Ianto's, and he batted away the light touches until finally the immortal surrendered with a chuckle and rolled onto his back, giving Ianto free reign over his body.

Propped up on one elbow, Ianto watched as his own fingers trailed over the smooth skin, embedding the shapes and measurements and colours in his memory. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the warm pheromone-scented air, and then sighed at the way it made his head spin even more. He could feel Jack's eyes on him, studying his expression whilst he drank in the sight laid out beside him, but dared not meet them in case he lost all control of himself.

As he ran a fingertip down the centre of Jack's chest, Ianto felt the subtle thump of his heart, causing him to pause his reverent touches and press his palm directly above the powerful organ. The pumping muscle throbbed through his hand, a drumbeat of eternal life, and Ianto ducked his head to place an ear there instead, freeing his fingers to continue their dance downwards. They wrapped around the awaiting heat and gave a possessive tug; it was all for him and he loved being the cause.

Impatience getting the better of him, no matter how much he was enjoying slowly rediscovering Jack's body, Ianto rolled onto his back and stretched to the bedside table and the drawer where he kept his provisions. Jack followed, exploiting his new-found freedom to turn the tables. He licked a wet stripe along Ianto's exposed stomach, biting gently at the softer flesh with a growl.

"Get off," Ianto laughed and, lube successfully retrieved, he shoved the older man over onto his back again. Jack retaliated by threading his fingers into Ianto's hair and pulling him down into another searing kiss, but it became quickly disjointed as Ianto returned his slick hand to the other's arousal, working with long slow movements to cover him from root to tip.

The fingers in his hair flexed and Ianto took his preparations further down, gliding over Jack's perineum to elicit a full-body twitch from the immortal, and then pushed a digit into the tight opening without any hesitation.

"Uhn," Jack groaned as he released Ianto's mouth, finally giving up on the slowing kiss. He jerked his hips sharply upward. "Yes...Ianto...another."

Ianto ignored his command, taking his time coating the other man's passage. He dropped his head to lick at the nearest nipple standing erect for him, at which point Jack clearly remembered his hand within Ianto's hair, the fingers curling to hold him in place.

"Another. Please," Jack tried again and this time Ianto slipped a second finger in, smiling against the hard nub between his lips.

Barely any time passed at all before Jack was spreading his legs further and reaching to manoeuvre Ianto between them. "Okay," he said, stroking along Ianto's moving arm, "now. M'ready now."

"Are you sure?" Ianto asked, hooking one finger to reach his prostate for the first time.

The Captain's body gave a spasm and he clutched hard at Ianto's bicep. "God, yes! Get on with it!"

"Impatient," Ianto murmured, closing his teeth around the damp nipple he'd been tormenting.

Jack yelped and pulled harder at Ianto, forcing him back onto his knees, though he clearly hadn't thought the plan through, for it meant Ianto needed to withdraw his fingers to stop himself from falling over as he moved. The disappointment was evident on the older man's face before he regained control of himself and narrowed his eyes fiercely. "If you don't get your cock inside me right now, I'm going to fold you over the headboard and take you dry."

The growled threat did absolutely everything Jack had intended, Ianto's mind wiped almost blank by the sudden hike in his arousal, effectively removing even the concept of delaying with more games. He moaned, low and needy, pupils so wide his eyes seemed black. He knew the threat was mostly empty, he'd already spread enough lube across the other man to avoid any real damage, but Ianto was unprepared, so it would still create an appealing ache.

He faltered for just a moment, considering the possibility of pushing Jack far enough to make him do just that, until he looked down and realised that would mean giving up his current view.

With a shark's smile, Ianto climbed over Jack's leg, nudging it further aside as he stroked the remaining lube over himself. He lined up and pushed forward smoothly, the way open and unresisting, drawing him in and enfolding him in blissful fire. Below, Jack smiled, his hips coming up to meet Ianto's and soon he was fully sheathed, leaning over to resume their kiss.

Ianto kept the pace slow, enjoying the steady rhythm as their shared pleasure heated the air around them, ever-growing as each fed upon the other's heavy breath or needy cry.

When he wasn't kissing Jack, Ianto was looking down at him, their eyes locked as he studied the visible enjoyment that brightened the immortal's gaze. He wished he could fall within that light, just give up the cruel outside world and live in that moment forever, where he was cared for and safe.

Forward and back he rocked, fighting the inevitable, trying to control their progression. In and out, everything tightening around him. Deeper and deeper, brightness flaring behind his eyes, and he realised Jack was touching himself, mouth rounded and releasing soft rhythmic grunts in time to their synchronised movements.

There was no helping it with that particular image emblazoned across his vision; Ianto pushed further, sliding faster, his control lost entirely. Jack urged him on, clawing at one hip with his free hand, muttering incomprehensible words until everything became too much and the world shattered into a million pieces.

When his eyes fluttered open again, Ianto found a blissed-out Captain beneath him, panting for breath, his stomach covered in his own ejaculate. Jack blinked dazed eyes and smiled drunkenly up at him, one hand lifting to cup the younger man's warm face.

Giving his own content smile, Ianto withdrew reluctantly from his lover only to be pulled immediately into welcoming arms. He curled around Jack's slick body, his head back upon the chest within which could be heard the staccato pounding of the immortal's heart.

* * *

Ianto wasn't surprised to wake alone, he'd never expected any differently since discovering Jack hadn't been exaggerating when he'd said he didn't sleep much. What _did_ make him pause, however, was the covered plate that had appeared on his bedside table and the piece of paper trapped beneath its rim.

_Eat!_ it said, and when he folded back the napkin he found a mound of fresh pastries, topped with a strip of painkillers and another note that added, _and take your medicine like a good boy._ Ianto smiled fondly, warmed by the thoughtfulness, especially when he remembered his kitchen could in no way be the source of the baked goods, meaning Jack would've had to go out to fetch them. His amusement grew then, to think his lover had been presented with all the possibilities imaginable to feed Ianto, and he'd settled for sugar-laden carbohydrates. Of course it wasn't a bad choice, he decided, as he devoured the first pastry in a couple of ravenous bites, but it had definitely been subject to Jack's own sweet tooth.

After a careful shower, some awkward bending to wrap dry bandages around his chest, and another pastry to reward his exertions, Ianto felt more alert than he had in a long time. He dressed casually, entirely out of clean suits now, packed up the soiled garments in question to drop off at the dry cleaners on his way to the Hub, and made his way out of the bedroom.

He realised abruptly he had no idea what time it was and checked his watch, alarmed to find it claiming to be almost 10 o'clock. A glance towards the windows in the living room showed an appropriately darkened sky and he cursed aloud, realising that he'd slept far longer than he had intended. Abandoning his cleaning by the door, he shrugged into a leather jacket and went hunting for his keys, the new urgency of his departure making him overlook their presence on the coffee table for a good few minutes before his brain started working properly.

"For goodness sake," he bit out, snatching them up and turning back to the door. He dropped them into an inner pocket, then stopped again as his fingers brushed over the edge of something else in there. Frowning, he reached further in and pulled out the object; it was a long, thin, tattered piece of card, printed on one side with a faded damask pattern. When he turned it over, recognition shot through him: it was the Tarot card given to him by the mysterious girl Jack had sought out for help with Gwen's situation.

Ianto's frown only deepened as he studied the picture of a man, bedecked in rich robes and a crown, seated upon an elaborate gold throne. He hadn't looked at the card in a long time, not since the girl had handed it to him on a whim, and he thought he remembered tucking it away somewhere at the Hub where he wouldn't have to consider the implication that he shared the card's characteristics. And yet here it was now, in a jacket he was more than certain he'd worn since then, and which up to that point definitely hadn't housed the ragged card.

"Time stopped," a sweet voice said and Ianto almost jumped out of his skin.

He span to face the trespasser in his flat, one hand pressed over his wildly beating heart. "Bloody hell!" he declared, staring wide-eyed at the same little girl who'd given him the card. "What are you doing here?"

"Talking to you," she replied innocently, her fathomless gaze sweeping over him.

Ianto's mouth worked uselessly at her logic. He shook his head to try and clear it, then squeezed his eyes shut in defiance. When he opened them again she was still standing there in the middle of his living room. "How did you get in?"

"Through the door." She gestured to the object in question and Ianto looked over his shoulder, as though he needed to confirm the existence of the door into his own home.

It was still closed, and more importantly it was still locked, which gave her answer no weight at all. He peered suspiciously at the girl. "You can pick locks?"

She smiled enigmatically. "Your Time stopped," she said, instead of answering him. "Do you agree?"

Ianto rolled his eyes and leaned against the back of the sofa beside him. Why did he even bother trying to hold normal conversations with these beings who kept showing up? "My Time?" he asked. "You mean because I'm apparently not aging? Yeah, I'll give you that one."

"Then you see how the Wheel still turns."

"Because I'm still alive," Ianto said obediently. He'd thought over her reading numerous times, his imagination finding ways to match each prediction against something that had happened in his life. As he'd said to Jack a few days earlier: it wasn't the fortune-telling that vexed him, it was the pretty words and misleading metaphors that could be moulded into any shape a person desired. "And the Doctor's arrival, being the Magician, made Time stop, because the Kalkerifeenian arrived with him."

"The Magician brought success, in the form of the Sun, but that is of no matter." The girl gave him an indulgent smile. "You're hostile," she observed.

"I just wish you'd _told_ me all this stuff without making a riddle of it. This is a big thing to blindly accept without warning."

"So I should have said you would be stabbed by an alien and cease to age?"

Ianto clenched his jaw. "Maybe not so bluntly," he conceded. "You can't blame me for being dubious, I've never encountered anything that would suggest this was even feasible before."

"Except your Captain," the girl pointed out.

"That's different."

She shrugged and looked around the room with passing interest. Ianto wondered briefly if he should be offering her a seat and some tea, then remembered she was trespassing in his _secured_ home. "What about your other problem?" she asked, whilst he battled with his ingrained desire to be a good host. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

Ianto's mind abandoned all thoughts of refreshments and instead started to question if the girl was asking because she actually didn't know, or to simply move the conversation along; he rather suspected she knew far more than she let on, though playing innocent was a ploy he could respect, having used it himself rather often in the past.

He hesitated before answering, dredging up the girl's words from her reading. _'__You're looking for the wrong thing in the wrong place. But after your heart has been pierced by Time, you'll be able to see clearly again.' _That alone was the part Ianto had really struggled to identify. Mostly because it involved admitting things to himself that, up until very recently, he'd been avoiding considering.

When he'd first met the girl, he'd been secretly employing a sadist to help keep his normal life and his emotions separate. After Jack had found out and managed to convince Ianto to leave Alex for him, Ianto had reluctantly admitted to himself that he'd wanted Jack in that role all along. But although he'd come to that conclusion fairly quickly, he'd forgotten for a time the second element in her comment.

The 'wrong place' was with Alex, but the 'wrong thing' was a concept Ianto hadn't truly contemplated. He _had _eventually realised it was an unanswered question, but he'd shied away from the puzzle, as though sensing the trouble its answer would cause.

The girl could apparently read his thoughts within his expression. "Your new games are rather _friendly_," she said in her knowing tone. "One might hardly call them games at all."

Ianto's eyes snapped to hers and he cringed inwardly at the horrifying realisation that this child, no matter how old she might really be, was seemingly trying to discuss his sex life with him. "What do you mean?" he hesitantly asked.

"Compare your playmates," she said. "The last seemed more suited to his title than the current."

Ianto opened his mouth, instincts roaring for him to question how on Earth she could know what he might have done with Alex, but before he could even gather the breath to speak, he realised the folly in asking her such a question; there was no way she'd answer that.

"They are different people," he heard himself say instead.

"Two faces of a coin still share the same spine." She blinked so slowly that it seemed deliberate, like she had to remember to make the gesture on occasion so as not to reveal her otherworldly nature. In the time it took for her eyelids to close and open again, Ianto could feel the truth swelling against his barricades of denial. "If the Captain took the Master's role, why does he not do the same as the Master once did?"

Ianto's head began to spin. Of course being with Jack was nothing like the sessions with Alex. They could never have really been comparable, considering the existence of a sexual relationship with the Captain before any other elements were introduced. But the biggest difference, one Ianto had somehow never acknowledged before but could no longer hide from beneath the girl's solemn gaze, was the minimal part pain and humiliation played in their time together.

With Alex, those elements had been the driving force of the scenarios, the only things that had made it possible for Ianto to feel a sense of release from the fear and doubt that had assailed him so frequently after being the puppet of the alien Lurrelia. And yet when Jack had stepped in, nothing had _really _changed between them. Yes, there was great emphasis on Ianto's submitting to Jack, and the odd bit of light pain-play was thrown in now and then, but in all honestly they were doing nothing more than another couple with adventurous tendencies might try.

And yet that was apparently enough for Ianto. What he received from Jack might be incredibly different to Alex, but it was still effective in releasing his stress and worries.

"Because..." he said, feeling the need to answer, whether it had been a rhetorical question or not. "Because I don't need that part anymore." He was looking through the girl now, the simple cathartic act of confronting the situation keeping him from caring any more that he was discussing such a private matter with her. "The submission is enough."

"I say the submission isn't as important as you think it is," she declared, which snapped Ianto's focus right back upon her. She looked at him with wisdom in her dark gaze, showing no discomfort for the subject she looked far too young to know so intimately. "I say the fear you have been trying to conquer could be quelled by a far sweeter weapon, had you only accepted your need for it."

"What?" Ianto asked flatly. The girl's words were somewhat labyrinthine, but he couldn't deny he suspected the general direction of her thoughts.

"Tell me, Ianto Jones," she said serenely, "would you have believed me if I had said it was safe to love him?"

The world seemed to spin for just a second and Ianto leaned more of his weight against the sofa. There it was, the source of everything: such a simple fear, and yet one that had driven almost all of Ianto's recent actions, now spoken aloud, so he could no longer deny it.

_Not recent_, he realised, the truths flowing one after another down over him like a waterfall. No, it had been there for a long time now, perhaps ever since the situation with Lisa, perhaps _caused_ by Lisa and her inadvertent betrayal...

Enlightenment hit Ianto like a blast of cold winter air. He'd been broken by her. Completely and utterly shattered by her loss. The real Lisa might not have intended to crush his heart, but the creature she had become had managed to tear asunder his confidence and faith in those who would claim love for him.

It could be considered no surprise at all that, even after her final death, he had failed to relinquish the facade he'd adopted when keeping her existence secret. It had been so much safer locking everything away and never revealing just how much damage he'd suffered; denial fast became his closest ally and, if his behaviour since then was anything to go by, it was a difficult bedfellow to shake.

"You were getting there yourself," the girl admitted, though her words came to him as though from very far away. "You started healing a long time ago."

Ianto opened his mouth, but couldn't form a single word. Was that how she saw his approaching Jack that first time? It had been a terrifying moment, when he'd realised he would quite willingly take a step closer to the immortal Captain, and even more so when forcing out the words that would bring that situation into being. Once they'd been spoken of course, things had snowballed thanks to Jack's nature, and the responsibility had been taken out of Ianto's hands, which suited him just fine. The casual arrangement had been perfect, allowing him to nudge aside the mask without actually removing it. He could achieve satisfaction for his base needs without any fear of being hurt in the process.

And if, after that, there began faint shifts in his feelings for the older man, he had found no trouble keeping them at a safe distance, hidden away where he didn't have to consider their existence. At least not until...

"But some of the trials you faced were very hard on you."

...Lurrelia. Too bloody right it had been hard on him. She had shoved aside his hard-won balance, casting his self-control into disarray and causing him to question his own thoughts and feelings.

It was no wonder he'd become confused about what he wanted and how to deal with those needs. It was no wonder he'd fought to keep the different elements in his life carefully segregated through whatever means possible.

And really, now that the veil had been lifted from his eyes, it was no wonder he'd let Jack barrel through his attempts to restrain everything to their respective corners. Because it was Jack that he'd needed all along. Not just the dominance he provided, or the submission Ianto willingly gave him, but the love that had been growing for some time now.

"It was a shame to send you away, knowing you were still blind," the girl was saying. "But just as if I had tried to tell you about your aging, you were in such denial you would not have believed the one thing you really wanted was to give into your feelings for him." She smiled blandly. "It did start your subconscious working though, which I can see is going to allow you to accept everything this time."

"Why did you come here?" Ianto numbly asked, ignoring her easy talk of acceptance. "Did you merely wish to point out my inadequacies? To stir trouble in my mind?"

"I had need to make sure you knew the truth in your own heart. It is way past time you stopped indulging in such denial."

"Why do you care?"

"Because you strayed too close to self-destruction and that cannot be allowed to happen again."

"What? Why?"

"So the Captain is saved a little longer from heartache." Her nose crinkled. "Or rather the denial of heartache," she amended. "He has a long journey to make, one only just begun, and if he continues repressing his darker emotions he will never make it through without becoming bitter and twisted."

That thought made Ianto sad. It was hard to imagine Jack as anything other than the man so full of life and light that Ianto knew so well, but he could understand the shadow that could grow under such conditions. Of course, having experienced the creeping gloom himself, and not having entirely escaped it, he couldn't help but find it ironic that this girl thought he could made a difference.

"Heartache?" Ianto echoed quietly. It seemed at first too strong a word for her to be using, but Ianto soon realised he was being foolish. Jack wasn't an insensitive monster; he still felt loss when those close to him died, even if it wasn't full on heartbreak. "But it can't be avoided forever," he pointed out. "Everyone said I've not become immortal like him."

"No, but you have more time now," she explained. "You can give him the stability he usually lacks and help him open his heart further."

Ianto blinked, then broke into a bemused grin. "So you're saying I should use my powers for good?"

The little girl didn't seem (or didn't choose) to understand his humour and instead furrowed her brow at him. "For _his_ good."

"Not the good of the universe?" Ianto went on, still caught on the wave of absurdity that suggested he could make a significant impact anywhere.

"That is not for us to say," the girl said. "Only the Captain can make that decision."

Ianto gave up his joking and sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. He might have woken refreshed, but this whole encounter was taking it out of him again incredibly quickly. It sounded like she was giving him the old hackneyed speech about not hurting Jack, which just didn't seem right coming from a being such as her. It certainly didn't seem a likely reason to break into his home and start dissecting his needs and urges.

"Not that I don't enjoy these cryptic and doom-laden conversations," he began, unable to keep his curiosity to himself, "but isn't this one of those things you shouldn't be telling me? It seems as though you're trying to steer our actions, and isn't that a big no-no?" It was strange enough that she'd more or less unravelled her own Tarot reading for his benefit, making sure he knew why she'd interpreted the cards in that way, but to tell him that he needed to help Jack stay on the right path was surely straying close to outright interfering. "Aren't there rules about messing with the natural course of things? The Doctor made it clear he wouldn't tell us anything that could influence our future in case he disrupted something."

"The reason time travellers are warned of meddling with the past is because those actions can bring about changes to things that have already occurred." The girl clasped her hands behind her back and turned, pacing a few steps across the room. It was the first time she had moved her entire body and Ianto wondered if that sudden restlessness indicated something important. "This, right now, has not already happened. My coming here is simply to direct what is to happen, so that it happens as it should."

More circular logic, Ianto noted wryly. "And who decides how it should happen?"

"Fate, obviously."

Ianto a soft snort of derision. "Then shouldn't things be left to fate, without you telling me what to do?"

"Am I telling you what to do? Would you not have helped him if I hadn't come here?"

"What? No! I mean, of course I'm not going to go out of my way to hurt him or anything, but still..."

"Then am I telling you what to do, or am I just making certain you are aware of the importance of your actions? Perhaps I am simply ensuring you know why you are going to do these things, so to make your journey that little bit easier."

Ianto narrowed his eyes at her. It sounded a bit too altruistic for all the girl's talk of fate.

"With that in mind," she went on, no longer pacing or gripping her own hands together. "I also come with a warning."

"Oh God," Ianto groaned. He should have see this coming. "What now?"

"Your former master has started to remember."

Of all the possibly crises that had gone through Ianto's mind, that hadn't been one of them. He blinked, confused by the unexpected words, then realisation struck and he drew himself upright again, his muscles tensing. "Alex?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

There was some small sense of relief that Jack hadn't killed the Welshman, Ianto certainly hadn't wished more blood upon the Captain's hands, but he'd thought that chapter of his life was over. If Jack had given Alex enough Retcon to wipe out at least a few months of memory and sent him on his way, only for it to emerge he had a natural immunity to the substance, then that could mean a lot of trouble in the near future.

Ianto started to feel light-headed and he moved around to sit on the sofa, his back hunched so he was staring at the floor through his knees. Normally he would keep a record of anybody given so large a dose of the manipulative drug; if it were just to steal a few hours of a witness' day then it wasn't that big a deal, but taking away months of a person's life required careful planning and continued observation until they could be sure the drug had done its work.

He hadn't asked how Jack had dealt with Alex at the time, nor had he gone looking for any possible surveillance that would confirm Jack had Retconned him, preferring instead to push the matter as far from his mind as possible and focus on all the other troubles that had arisen in his life. But if he'd been brave enough to find out the truth, he could have kept an eye out for signs of the man's memory returning and they could have dealt with the problem long before this strange little girl had come calling with the news.

Which, he realised, only raised more questions. "Why are you telling me this?" he asked, cautiously placing aside the thoughts of what he should have done to avoid such a complication arising. "This isn't making sure I understand something I already knew. I didn't have a clue about him."

The girl shrugged. "You're one of us now, we have to look after each other."

There was more to it than that, Ianto could tell. Not because of any great ability like those the girl apparently possessed, but because he knew people, and he was positive this being would always hold something back until prompted. "And...?"

"And," she went on, the coy look back on her face, "we may need your assistance in the future."

"Right." All the pieces finally slotted into place in Ianto's mind, everything making sense now she had uttered those few simple words. "You want me to owe you a favour." Ianto gave a cynical shake of his head. He probably shouldn't have expected anything less. Making sure an immortal like Jack was following the right path was one thing, but warning Ianto of a possible future problem could only come at a price. He wondered what kind of favour might be asked of him, considering she'd more or less _told_ him to be there for Jack, rather than counting thata favour.

Ianto suddenly became aware that she was much closer than before, holding out his Tarot card in one small hand. He frowned, automatically accepting it and turning it over between his fingers. He must have dropped it when her abrupt arrival had made him jump, but he didn't recall her picking it up.

"Take care, Ianto Jones," the little girl said, stepping back and smiling innocently at him once again. "We need our Emperor safe."

* * *

**A/N 2: I didn't do a _lot_ of research on Tarot when I decided to have the little girl give Ianto a reading, mostly it was down to Wiki, so there's always the possibility I'm waaaay out. Anyway, in case anyone's interested and can't be bothered to a) Wiki it themselves, or b) go back to the previous story when Ianto was researching the card himself, here is the list I referenced of what the Emperor card _might_ represent:**

_Fathering - Stability - Authority - Power_

_Control - Discipline - Command - Common sense_

_Status quo__ - Order - Structure - Egocentrism_

_Tradition - Rigidity - Leadership - Experience_

_Inflexibility - Conservative ways - Organization_

**Hopefully the general theme helps explain why I chose it for the version of Ianto appearing in this series...**


	23. Chapter 22

The car park wasn't completely deserted, it still being early enough in the night for people to be out and about in the city, but there were only a couple of cars left on the same level as the Hub's back door. Ianto took note of their plates out of habit, always wary of Torchwood's location being discovered, though this time he also checked the darkened windows, paranoid that he would see a familiar face within the shadows.

It was stupid, he knew; the girl's warning had been only that Alex had _started_ to remember, which didn't mean he'd recalled any specific details, and it certainly didn't mean he'd suddenly come across information he hadn't been privy to before. Such as the fact Ianto worked in a secret base beneath the Plass, or that one of the secret entrances into that secret base just happened to be on this particular floor of this particular car park...

Ianto smiled grimly to himself as he passed through the security doors and started towards the Hub's central chamber. He didn't know what to do and he was hesitant to tell Jack about what the girl had said. Things were going so well between them, their connection stronger than ever now, and he didn't want to ruin it. He suspected Jack had realised the depth of his feelings for him and as he hadn't run screaming for the hills, it seemed he didn't mind that Ianto had broken the unspoken rule of not getting too attached.

The possibility of putting undue strain on that growing bond was something Ianto felt unhappy to risk. He was afraid that reminding Jack of the entire Alex incident would bring the wrong kinds of thoughts to the immortal's mind and make him question the logic of allowing Ianto to get any closer. It was a fear he knew couldn't possibly be healthy; if he was scared to even mention one of the most influential times of his life in case it put Jack off, how could he think things would ever progress with their level of trust in each other? And he knew trust was the key here. He'd learnt it the hard way and wasn't so proud that he refused to learn from his mistakes, but that didn't make it any easier for him to envision bringing up the subject with his lover.

Reaching the heart of the Hub, Ianto neatly packed away those thoughts for later consideration and turned his attention to his surroundings. Tosh was working across the way, her back turned and her head bent over something Ianto couldn't see. He decided not to disturb her yet, swinging instead towards the medical bay and approached the railing cautiously, leery of the hush within.

Gwen was still stretched out on the metal bed, the network of wires linking her to the same circle of machines. Rhys had been allowed to sit beside her again, but he was slumped forward, his head resting on his folded arms at the edge of the bed. Ianto didn't know how to interpret the quiet scene, there wasn't enough information from his vantage point, and he started down the tiled stairs as softly as he could.

He didn't think he was making much noise at all and yet after only a few steps Gwen's head rolled to the side, eyes opening and snapping instantly to his. He froze, unsure if he was seeing anything different in that dark gaze or if the creature still reigned within her body. One of her arms started to move, lifting as though to reach out to him, and he noticed for the first time that the restraints had been removed.

The relieved smile spread easily across Ianto's face, his own worries forgotten as he interpreted that to mean things might finally have gone their way. He resumed his descent, never looking away from her eyes in case the familiarity he saw there vanished.

Rhys stirred as Gwen moved, lifting his head and blinking tiredly along the bed at her. Seeing her attention directed elsewhere, he turned to follow her gaze to the young man now standing behind him. "Hey," he said, voice thick with sleep.

"Hi," Ianto replied. He didn't know what to ask first, a mass of questions clamouring for resolution, so he simply continued to smile happily at Gwen. Her skin remained an unhealthy grey, and the rough scaly texture seemed no softer, but she otherwise looked the same as always. Her features hadn't changed at all and with her eyes no longer almost pure black, it simply looked like she'd done a _great_ job on a Halloween costume. "How do you feel?" he eventually asked, deciding it was the best place to start.

Gwen's dry lips slowly curved upwards; they were a deeper grey than the rest of her face and when they parted her teeth were a bright contrast to the dull colour. "Fab," she croaked.

"She woke up a few hours ago," Rhys told him, taking hold of her hand and smiling happily. "Owen says she's doing really well."

"Tired," Gwen said.

"But tired," Rhys obediently corrected.

"Tired is better than-" Ianto began, only to stop when he realised what he was saying. "Uh, I mean..."

Gwen laughed, though it came out hoarse and weak. "Don't," she said.

"We're not to make her laugh. It hurts, apparently," Rhys explained on her behalf. He was grinning and Ianto marvelled at how the good news had brought the older man back to life as well. There were still shadows under his eyes, but he looked much less haggard than he had before.

Placing a hand on Rhys' shoulder, he mirrored the grin before turning back to Gwen. Her eyes were almost shut and he could see her fighting not to yawn. "I'll leave you to it," he said, stepping away. "But I'm really glad you're feeling better."

He turned away as Rhys leaned forward to press a kiss to Gwen's forehead, climbing the steps once again and silently thanking anyone or any_thing _listening that she'd gotten through the worst of the strange illness they'd unwittingly inflicted on her. He wondered idly if they should start looking into the possibility of vaccinating against certain extraterrestrial diseases; after all, the reason only Gwen had been infected was because everyone else had already experienced the rash used as the virus' delivery agent. It would of course be a job for Owen, and likely Tosh now she'd discovered an interest in the subject, but Ianto didn't think they'd mind too much being given such a challenge, especially after their success with helping Gwen.

At the top of the stairs, Ianto swung left towards the office, inside which he found the Doctor lounging in the desk chair, whilst that same chair's owner leaned against the far wall, glowering at him. Jack's expression cleared, however, when he glanced up to see Ianto in the doorway. "Hey, Snow White!"

Ianto lifted an eyebrow, undecided on how to take a greeting like that.

Seeing his confusion, Jack smirked. "I already used 'Sleeping Beauty', remember?"

"Right," Ianto sighed, glancing helplessly towards the ceiling. "Maybe if you hadn't turned off my alarm I wouldn't have overslept."

"Not possible," Jack cheerfully declared. "You didn't have a specific time you needed to be back, so you couldn't have overslept."

Ianto squinted at his reasoning.

"I'm right, aren't I? Admit it."

"Technically..." he replied, though it galled him to say it.

Jack chuckled at his victory, looking to the Doctor to include him in the joke. Much to Ianto's pleasure the Time Lord simply turned away and gave him a sympathetic waggle of his eyebrows instead.

"Have you seen Gwen?" Jack asked.

"Yeah, she seems much better."

"And not a single attempt to claw anyone in sight yet," Jack said. "It's a Christmas miracle!"

God, Ianto thought, with another roll of his eyes, he really was in a good mood. Of course there was a good excuse for the joviality, after so many false hopes and life-threatening situations, and Ianto couldn't hold that against him. It did, however, make it much less appealing to bring up his news whilst Jack was so happy. He tucked those grim thoughts back into their shadowy corner before they could fully surface and called an indulgent smile to his lips. "What's the next step?"

"For Gwen? A lot of moisturising cream?" Jack chuckled again before turning serious at Ianto's glare. "According to Owen, we've got to give her body time to get used to the changes, then she can start on the original gene therapy plan.

"And to make sure she doesn't relapse, of course," the Doctor piped up, drawing Ianto's horrified gaze.

"That couldn't happen, could it?" he hissed, dropping his voice in fear of being heard all the way down in the medical bay.

The Time Lord shrugged and spread his hands helplessly. "Weeell," he began, dragging out the word whilst Ianto's heart threatened to pound its way out of his chest, "it's not _impossible_." He seemed to suddenly notice Ianto's pained look and hurried on. "But it's very _very _unlikely. Seventeen percent chance I'd say, and seventeen is a low number!" He offered the other two men a brilliant grin that was surprisingly effective at easing Ianto's brief panic.

Jack caught his eye as well and gave his own shrug. "It is pretty low," he agreed.

"Okay," Ianto said slowly. He wasn't entirely convinced seventeen was low enough, but he wasn't deluded to think he could do anything about those odds. Plus if everyone else seemed to think it an acceptable margin, then attempting to pull them all down with such scepticism just seemed cruel. Things _were_ getting better, at least concerning Gwen's situation, and Ianto was confident he could deal with Alex's possible re-emergence if he just made sure the older man understood he didn't have a part in Ianto's life anymore. Hell, he might not even _want_ anything to do with Ianto now! He was unlikely to have guessed precisely what had brought about his memory loss, and if he felt content wherever he currently lived, then there would be no reason to come back to Cardiff and track Ianto down again.

Not that that chance would stop Ianto tracking _him _down. It was better to be safe than sorry and simply keeping an eye on the older Welshman's movements was the best way to assure that safety.

"The Doctor's going to leave today," Jack announced, cutting abruptly through Ianto's contemplation.

The young man frowned and glanced at the alien. "Oh. So soon?"

"It's time," the Doctor replied. "I've done what I came here to do and now I have other jobs to go on to."

"By jobs you mean...?"

"Adventures, yes!" The Time Lord grinned. "Hopefully none so dreary for a while though. Oh don't look at me like that, I had fun too. It was the killing and maiming that brought it all down a tad."

Ianto couldn't very well disagree there. "When?"

"Soon. After I've done some packing."

Jack pouted and pushed himself away from the wall. "I thought we'd discussed that."

"We had. And the outcome was I'm not taking no for an answer." The Doctor got to his feet and ran a thoughtful eye over Ianto. "You should help, they like you."

Feeling lost, Ianto shook his head in confusion.

"Our guests downstairs," Jack expounded. "The Rift slugs."

"Time Vortex slugs," Ianto corrected automatically.

"Kalkerifeenians," the Doctor put in.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Either way, the Doctor is _insisting _on taking them with him."

"It isn't fair to keep them here," the alien said, sounding as though he'd already made that argument many times over. "The energy they're consuming from the Rift isn't enough to allow them to slip back into the Vortex on their own, so I need to help them on their way."

Ianto gave a nod of agreement. "It does seem a little cruel to leave them in that tank, Jack."

The Captain huffed loudly, but it was more for show than out of any real anger. "Yes, yes," he said, waving away the debate. "But I'm not getting that goop all over me again so you can do it yourself."

"Fine," the Doctor agreed easily. "If I can have Ianto's help."

Jack cocked an eyebrow at Ianto, who shrugged in return. "So long as none of them try to eat me again."

The Doctor grinned and swept from the room, worryingly not bothering to reassure Ianto that his fear was unfounded. Jack started to follow after, but only just far enough to wrap himself around Ianto and catch his lips in a slow, deep kiss.

Ianto opened for him, sliding his tongue against Jack's and holding tightly onto the solid form of his lover, enjoying the private greeting far more than his most recent nickname.

"You look good," Jack murmured, when he eventually drew away for air. He stroked the back of Ianto's neck gently, smiling at the faint tremble he caused. "Did you eat?"

"Yes, mother," Ianto replied snarkily. "And I took my medicine too, before you ask." That last one was a lie; the painkillers were still in his pocket, forgotten after the chat with his unexpected visitor.

"Good." Jack kissed him again, just a lingering touch against closed lips, and released him from his embrace. "Go on then, go get all dirty and sticky with the Doctor."

Ianto snorted and hurried to leave before Jack could take that image any further.

* * *

"Do you know why they're doing that?"

The Doctor glanced across at him, then down to the large glass tank, where the slug-shaped aliens were all congregating at the corner nearest to Ianto. "Actually, yes, I do."

Ianto waited but when nothing followed he looked away from the creatures and over to the Time Lord's amused expression. "And are you allowed to share?" he asked patiently.

"You won't like it," the Doctor said. Then he frowned. "Or maybe you will. It kind of depends."

"On what?"

"On you, really." The alien shrugged. "They're following you because you taste nice to them."

Ianto blinked. "Pardon?"

"Well, obviously you know they feed off Artron radiation. That means they can tell when someone or something has been exposed to it, probably for these kinds of situations when they're outside the Vortex." The Doctor handed him the clear box he'd been examining and took a few steps to the side. One of the Kalkerifeenians squirmed in his direction for a few inches. "That way they can find nourishment wherever they might end up."

"Oh," Ianto said, realisation dawning. "They're feeding off the radiation I absorbed?" It made sense for a few seconds, until he remembered something rather more important. "But surely _you've_ absorbed more of that than me?"

"Both Jack and I have, yes. I'm sure they've been taking their fair share from us as well, whenever we've been near enough, but you have something that we don't have. Something that appeals to them even more, hence the extra attention."

That didn't sound good, despite the Time Lord's broad grin. "Go on..."

"Well your..._flavour_, shall we say, is a bit different to ours, mainly because of the way you received your extra dose."

"You mean the spine through my chest?"

The Doctor cleared his throat, clearly fighting back a laugh. "From a female."

The gears reluctantly turned in Ianto's brain. "Oh God," he sighed. "They think I'm a potential mate, don't they?"

"Exactly," the Doctor confirmed, the repressed snicker finally escaping. "Look, line that box up with the hatch and stand behind it."

Ianto did as he was told, sliding aside the two panels so the smaller box was accessible from inside the tank. The Kalkerifeenians immediately seemed to realise there was a way to be nearer to the 'female' they were sensing and started to wriggle towards the new opening. The two quickest slid inside the box and were trapped as the Doctor swept in to shut the panels again.

"And that's why you're helping me."

Ianto couldn't deny he was impressed. "All without having to touch them," he said, thinking back to Jack's reaction to the creatures' slime. "Brilliant."

"I know," the Time Lord preened, swapping the full box for an empty one and motioning Ianto back towards the hatch.

They made quick work of getting most of the aliens packed away and ready to accompany the Doctor back into the Time Vortex, but as they reached the last few, the Time Lord abruptly announced, "I had another reason for requesting your help, you know."

Ianto laughed before he could stop himself, then waved away the confused look on the other's face. First the little girl and now this...it appeared to be the day for encountering deceptive people. "Sorry, carry on."

The Doctor peered at him warily before continuing. "I thought it best," he started, "if we have a little chat before I leave."

"Oh?"

"Yes."

"What about?"

"Your new situation."

Ianto licked his lips and accepted the next box. "My new situation being...the aging thing?" he asked, hoping desperately it was because he did _not_ fancy having another discussion about his sex life with an unearthly being that day.

Thankfully the Doctor nodded in assent. "It occurred to me you're faced with a decision now."

Ianto's brow creased faintly. "I am?"

"I don't want to claim to have more understanding of Jack than anyone else, but I have a bit of an idea what he would think of this entire thing."

"Which is?" Ianto asked, after a moment's hesitation.

"That you have a chance to take, should you wish it." Ianto resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but the Doctor must have realised the unsatisfactory vagueness of his own words and gave the young man a wry smile. "That you could be in his life for a lot longer than the average human."

Ianto nodded. "Yes," he said. It was a given by that point after all.

If the Doctor was surprised by _his_ lack of surprise, it didn't show. "In which case, I think it's important you know you shouldn't feel obliged to do that."

"Obliged?" Ianto echoed. "I shouldn't feel obliged to stay with him?" The notion was so ridiculous he had to pause to unsuccessfully try and decipher it. "Why on Earth _would _I feel obliged?"

The Doctor drew a vague circle in the air with one hand and shrugged. "Somebody had to say something. Jack might make a promise he can't keep and where would that leave you?"

Ianto laughed again; he just couldn't help it. "That's the same in any relationship, with or without immortality being a factor."

"I don't think I'm making the right point," the alien declared, his lower lip jutting out unhappily. "Let's start again." He shooed away his previous comments with a wiggle of his fingers. "You've become something special, Ianto. Unique. Oh don't get me wrong, almost everyone is unique, but to be frank, you humans weren't meant to dabble with extended life this early on in your development."

The word 'early' struck Ianto as amusing, but he swallowed the unprofessional giggle in case it led to a diversion away from whatever point the other man was trying to make.

"You've got potential. You have opportunities that are given to very few in your time. I'm just making sure you realise it's all right to think about what _you_ want to do for yourself, and not worry about other people. Just a few days in your company and I can clearly see you're the kind to sacrifice everything for somebody you think deserves it, whether they actually do or not."

"Jack _does _deserve it," Ianto said, very firmly, sensing this was about the Captain as well as himself.

The Doctor tilted his head. "You love him."

"I thought that would be obvious by now." He really did. He'd been fighting it for so long, but really, stepping back, he was sure everyone could see it as clear as day as well.

"Just..." the Doctor began, his gaze searching the room as though looking for the right words. "Just remember there are always other options when you have time. Things to do, places to see, lives to lead...some of which might mean not walking the same path as Jack."

Ianto considered the Doctor for a moment, unsure what he was being warned about. On the surface it appeared the Time Lord was telling him not to get too close to Jack, but Ianto wasn't at all convinced that was the case. He might not know the Doctor very well, his information limited to recent observations and notes in the archives, but he could tell with a certainty that he didn't meddle...at least not in private matters like this.

Stepping in to save a doomed race or accidentally-on-purpose dropping hints that would help someone solve a complex problem was one thing, but interfering in another's personal relationship just didn't ring true to Ianto. So what did it mean? The little Tarot-reading girl had wanted him to know why things had transpired a certain way so he could understand his actions and emotions; could this be something similar?

Looking into the Doctor's expressive eyes, noting the undeniable warmth and intelligence there, Ianto simply couldn't believe any malice lay beneath his advice. Which meant it must simply that...well-meaning advice.

Ianto smiled faintly. "I'm never going to walk the same path as Jack," he pointed out a little sadly. "Without immortality, my path will end. Maybe not just yet, but it will, and that makes it a different path."

The Time Lord started to open his mouth and Ianto quickly lifted his hand to stall him. "But I do understand what you're saying. If it turns out we have different ideas on where to go from here, I can assure you I won't hold back out of obligation, as you put it. I agree that, should I truly have stopped aging, it's an opportunity to see and do things I might never have before, to experience a future that should have outlived me. If I can manage it, I think I'd rather like to see that."

The Doctor nodded, his grin returning at Ianto's determined words. "Great!" he said. "A healthy appetite for adventure always makes for an interesting life!"

"A few quiet days now and then are acceptable though," Ianto told him, only to have the alien playfully scoff at him.

Advice successfully imparted, the Doctor hurried Ianto along to finish packing up the Kalkerifeenians. The young Welshman felt a little sorry for them, enclosed in their small boxes, but he knew it was for the best. Soon they'd be back in their natural habitat where they belonged, the Doctor would be gone, and everyone could start moving forward from the events of the past few days.

That realisation brought Ianto to a halt, mid-way through loading the boxes onto a large metal dolly. He turned back to the Doctor, who was watching him expectantly, having clearly noticed his pause. "This might be the last time I have the chance to ask you this," Ianto said, glancing briefly to the chamber's entrance to make sure they were still alone. "I know what you're going to say, but I think I need to at least try, for my own peace of mind."

The Doctor's expression became an interesting mix of intrigue and regret, and Ianto pushed on, well aware he was breaking certain rules. "Do you know what happens to Jack in the future?" he asked.

"Ianto..." The alien's voice was laced with disappointment, though whether it was down to the question itself, or the fact that Ianto was actually asking, wasn't clear.

"Yes, I know, you're not allowed to tell me but hear me out first, okay? I don't want know his future, I realise it'd be foolish to ask for particulars. I just..." He hesitated, pained because of the subject, terrified of the answer, yet he couldn't stop now. He simply couldn't. "I just want to know...do _you_ know what happens to him?"

After a moment's hesitation, the Doctor asked, "What do you mean by 'happens'?" He spoke slowly, cautiously, and Ianto's heart thudded hard against his ribs as he realised that careful manner meant the Doctor was open to considering his request. An outright refusal, weary preaching of the rules, those would have ended everything right there and then, but a question like that could only give Ianto hope.

"At the end," Ianto said quietly. "His end."

"I don't know what you mean." But he did, he clearly did, and Ianto wasn't falling for it.

"Please, just tell me he has an end. No matter what it is, no matter how it comes about, I don't care about the details, but I have to know that one day he'll be free."

The Doctor went very still, his powerful gaze boring into Ianto until it felt like his very soul was being examined and picked apart. "I don't know."

The floor seemed to fall away from Ianto, his stomach clenching with fear and grief. He reached out and steadied himself on the dolly, struggling to stop the ache from showing on his face.

"I don't know," the Doctor repeated. "But I have a suspicion."

The tumbling floor immediately slammed back up under Ianto's feet and he blinked owlishly at the Time Lord. "You do?" he asked, voice catching just a little. "Is it...good?"

"A good suspicion?"

"Does he...if your suspicion is right, does he get what he wants the most?"

The Doctor's rigid posture softened beneath the eager plea and a small smile crept back onto his lips. "_If_ my suspicion is correct, then yes, he does."

Ianto's eyes fluttered shut as relief swept over him like a wave. The Doctor had to be right about this, Ianto simply couldn't accept the possibility that he could be wrong; if he wasn't confident in his 'suspicion' he wouldn't have even mentioned it, so he _knew_, but couldn't confirm it to Ianto, or perhaps not even to himself.

And if he was right (which he was, seeing as Ianto had determined that with indisputable logic) then it meant Jack wasn't quite as immortal as everyone thought. A lot longer-lived, perhaps, but not completely and utterly never-ever-ever-going-to-die immortal. Which was perhaps the best news Ianto had ever heard in his entire life.

"Thank goodness," he breathed, opening his eyes again to see the Doctor watching him curiously, apparently fascinated by his reaction. Ianto was struck with the overwhelming urge to hug the slighter man, but although his arms lifted a few inches of their own volition, propriety quickly stepped in to remind him it probably wouldn't be appropriated.

Unsurprisingly, the Doctor didn't miss the twitching of the other's hands. "What was that?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at the offending limbs as though they were about to shoot out and grab him.

A chuckle bubbled from Ianto and he made no attempt to stop it; he was far too happy to hold it back. "I was considering giving you a big hug," he admitted with a smirk. He spread his arms and tried a coquettish dip of his head.

The Doctor's head moved as well, though it was in the opposite direction as he rocked back slightly in alarm. "I'm sure there's someone else you should be hugging," he hurriedly pointed out, shoving his hands into his pockets as though that could ward off any potential embraces.

"Oh, by all means," a new voice announced, bringing the pair's heads simultaneously around to find Jack standing in the doorway with a bemused grin upon his face. "Be my guest."

Ianto ran a quick analytical eye over his lover, judging from his posture that he'd only just that moment stopped walking and had thus only arrived in time to hear their talk of hugs. Relieved they hadn't been caught discussing the Captain's fate, Ianto relinquished himself again to his amusement and took a step towards the Doctor.

"Ooooh-kay!" the Time Lord said, skipping aside and over to the door. "I'm not ashamed to say I'm going to make a tactical retreat now." And with that he was gone again, leaving Ianto to laugh warmly, his arms dropping to his sides.

To say he wasn't surprised by his own carefree behaviour would have been a distinct untruth; he certainly wouldn't have normally dared joke like that with someone he barely knew, and especially not an alien who had lived longer than even Jack and thus, at least to Ianto's polite mind, deserved no small degree of respect. Yet the young man had no issue with his own actions, where before he would have fretted about having caused offence and spent the next few sleepless nights replaying the scene over in his head and tormenting himself even further with regret.

It was all Jack's fault of course, Ianto thought, smiling at the immortal man now approaching him. He was the one continually reassuring and encouraging Ianto, sometimes intentionally, sometimes not, but always so smoothly that Ianto was barely aware of his growing confidence and self-esteem. And Ianto really couldn't find a problem with that.

"Were you getting lonely?" he teased, actually managing to make his lover pause. Jack raked his gaze over the Welshman, perhaps seeking the cause for this gaiety, but all he would be able to see was the faint tremble that look had evoked in Ianto.

"A little," Jack admitted, his curiosity slipping into easy acceptance. "You two were gone for so long I thought maybe those little guys were giving you trouble." He nodded towards the stacked boxes of alien slugs. "I should've guessed you were actually trying to seduce the Doctor instead."

Ianto attempted to look contrite. "I think I have a thing for older men," he said.

"Mm, I'd say that was probably true." Grinning, Jack glanced back to the Kalkerifeenians. "Do you need a hand?"

A little taken aback that the flirting hadn't led to anything, not even a touch to assure him that Jack didn't suspect anything untoward had actually happened with the Doctor, Ianto nodded and stepped over to the boxes. "Sure, thanks."

They resumed the task of loading the dolly, stacking them securely for transport to the TARDIS. Jack questioned their method for boxing the creatures without getting covered in slime and then laughed loudly when Ianto explained his allure to the aliens, but otherwise said nothing more until they were finished.

Ianto could easily read the impending conversation by the slight unease in the other man's body as they straightened from their work. He caught Jack's eye and quirked a brow at him, encouraging him to go ahead and say whatever he needed to say.

The Captain gave a small smile. "I thought we should talk," he began and Ianto bit back a snort. He'd had so many conversations that day he was beginning to wonder if there was anything left to say. "Before the Doctor leaves, I mean."

"About what?"

"Well, you're going to look young for the rest of your life," Jack said, with an appreciative sweep of his eyes over Ianto's body. "Problems are going to arise from it."

"Like hiding the fact it's happening? You manage it." Ianto couldn't see that as so great an issue if Jack - being that much more conspicuous - had gotten away with it for so long.

"Like people starting to resent you for it," Jack corrected. "You'll stay the same whilst they get older. They'll get wrinkles and grey hair and their energy will run out and they'll look at you and see what they've lost."

"Like they look at you?"

"Exactly." Jack took a step forward. "I know you, Ianto. You'll push it aside and ignore it and though there'll come a point in the future when you can't deny it any longer, in the meantime it'll be left to fester. I think it's best if you get any concerns off your chest now before that happens."

Ianto pursed his lips. He'd been more open about things recently than he'd ever been in his life, and yet still Jack wanted more? "And this involves the Doctor how?"

"Honestly? He's the best person to ask about these things. I don't even really understand how _I_ became like this, but he has answers. Sometimes he'll even share them if you ask the right way."

Accustomed to the Doctor's regulations on what he would and wouldn't reveal, Ianto couldn't help but smile. "Indeed," he murmured. "But you're too late, we've already had the birds-and-bees chat. As you said, we've been down here for a while."

Jack cocked his head, unable to hide his surprise at that response. "Really?" Clearly he hadn't expected Ianto to broach any such subject with the Time Lord without some serious pushing on Jack's part. He'd obviously forgotten that his own recent work on whittling away Ianto's inclination to keep quiet until at his very limit was proving particularly successful. "What did he say?"

Ianto laughed, purposefully not thinking about the Doctor's talk of diverging paths. "That's private. And for your information, my one burning question was answered, so there'll be no _festering_."

Jack's eyebrows lifted in respect. "It's usually a real effort to get an actual answer out of him..." His amazement gave way quickly to intrigue. "What did you ask?"

"Still private."

"It was about me, wasn't it?"

Ianto rolled his eyes. "No," he lied.

"Oh, come on." Jack slid closer, a predatory look darkening his gaze. "We shouldn't keep secrets from each other."

"Wow," Ianto said, amused by the poor attempt to convince him. "Then you'd better start talking, because you have far more secrets than me to share!"

The immortal growled, knowing he was defeated, and took a final step forward. He walked his fingers up Ianto's arm and stopped at his bicep, rubbing gently. "So you're really okay with this whole non-aging thing?" he asked quietly. "No urge to freak out?"

Ianto shrugged, touched by the concern, but still unclear why he should be troubled by the situation. "I really don't believe it's that much of an issue," he said. "It's not going to make a big impact on my daily life. Except maybe at that pub where they insist on asking me for ID every bloody time we go in there. That could get old pretty quick." He paused for a moment, then chuckled at his own unintentional pun. "Okay, I'll tell you one thing the Doctor told me. He said this is an opportunity, and I think he's right."

Jack didn't speak, just gave him a questioning look, and Ianto went on, taking care to only reveal part of what the Doctor had said. "With extra time maybe I could do things that weren't possible before. We can't know what will happen to Torchwood in the future, and I don't think I'd want to stay in Cardiff indefinitely so maybe..."

He hesitated, not wanting to sound like he was expecting Jack to share his ideas, but then started up again, determined to voice his thoughts as the Doctor had encouraged. "Hey, is there anything like those rings from 'Hitchhiker's' in the archives?" he asked, hoping a lighter tone would make it easier to be so open about his thoughts of the future. "That could be a fun way to see more of what's out there, seeing as we never dug up a fully-functioning spaceship."

He laughed again, starting to enjoy the freedom to make such wild plans. Whether they came to fruition or not, just the possibility was enough to make Ianto's spirits soar. Perhaps it was the rush of endorphins from his lover's proximity, perhaps it was the sense he saw in the Doctor's advice, but either way it seemed he had finally accepted the new directions open to him now, the options that could be explored by having more time than the average human.

The dark look upon Jack's face stopped his laughing dead.

"You don't hitchhike," the Captain told him, catching Ianto off guard with the firm tone so unlike the usual breezy response to such topics. "You pay your way and log a permit at the port."

"I was just-" Ianto started, only to stop when curiosity got the better of him. "What about extenuating circumstances? What if you're stuck somewhere without the means to pay? Couldn't you come to some agreement? Washing the dishes, mopping the floor?"

Jack shook his head, lip curling up into a faint sneer. "It's a risk that isn't worth taking. Without an official record of payment the crew aren't required to comply with any 'agreement' you might have made." Ianto opened his mouth but Jack cut in before he could speak. "And you _don't_ try to stow away. No sneaking onto ships no matter what. If you get caught, the captain is well within their rights to demand payment from you."

Ianto shrugged. "Well, that's understand-"

"Not monetary payment," Jack snapped. "Not housework. And if you don't agree to them you're likely to get tossed out an airlock."

"If not chores or money, then what?" Ianto asked. He'd only been joking about hitchhiking but Jack's reaction was starting to alarm him.

Jack scowled and ignored the question. "It's too dangerous. No matter what happens, you just don't do it."

Ianto attempted to laugh off the grim warning. "I feel like a kid being told not to get in a stranger's car." Jack didn't laugh back and Ianto shifted uncomfortably on the spot. "Okay, look, I wasn't being serious. I was just trying to say maybe, in the future, if we aren't tied down to Rift-sitting..." He trailed off again, starting to feel rather self-conscious about the entire matter. He'd thought indulging in a little fantasising about travelling the Universe with Jack would have been a fun conversation, the kind that normally led to Jack imparting wild tales that Ianto could never be sure were true or not. He wasn't at all sure where this solemnness had come from.

Jack seemed to abruptly realise Ianto's unease and his tense stance relaxed slightly. "Sorry," he sighed. "You just don't know what it's like out there. Everything is a potential risk, just saying the wrong thing, or looking the wrong way at someone, it could get you hurt, killed even." He returned his hand to Ianto's arm. "You need to stay safe."

Something shifted in Ianto's mind, sparking off a sinking feeling in his stomach. "I need to stay safe," he echoed. "After working for Torchwood, the bloody epitome of unsafe, for most of my adult life, _now _I need to stay safe?"

He took step back, far enough to dislodge Jack's hand. "God," he breathed quietly, realising his mistake. They'd spent over a year engaged in an expressly and pointedly casual relationship, and yet now there was this new level of affection, right when it seemed Ianto would be sticking around for a bit longer than expected. How could he not have seen that correlation before?

Ianto laughed darkly to himself, eyes closing as he instinctively reached for the mantle that would protect him from such traitorous and painful feelings. It was bad enough that he'd unwittingly fallen for the man, despite all of his efforts not to, but to have those feelings returned purely because he could offer Jack more _time_ was a hollow and agonising sensation.

Clearly his trusty old mask did a good job hiding the precise nature of his thoughts, for Jack frowned at him, interpreting the reaction as something completely different. "Don't start with that 'I'm going to die anyway' crap," the Captain said. "You shouldn't talk like that."

"What, truthfully?" Ianto rubbed at a temple, his mind in turmoil. Jack's mistaken translation of his thoughts troubled him; in the past he would think such a successful deflection as proof of just how well his disguise worked, but now he found it frustrating that Jack didn't understand.

Over the past few days, weeks, maybe even months, he'd been exposed to Jack in so many ways; the very core of his existence on display for the immortal's perusal. Could it be he'd become accustomed to that candidness? He made himself meet Jack's bright gaze, trying to step back and view the situation with objectivity. Realisation struck him like a dousing of ice water and he saw two distinct futures laid out before him, flaring into existence from the mixture of bullishness, concern and, surprisingly, vulnerability in Jack's eyes.

He could take his fears and conceal them from Jack, assure him that everything was fine and hope they could get back to the kind of unacknowledged tenderness they'd experienced in Ianto's bed earlier that day, or he could be completely honest, in a way he'd never been before in any of his other relationships, even those of a non-sexual nature. Licking his lips, his eyes still locked with Jack, he came to the startling conclusion that to start hiding such things again would be the quickest way to completely ruin what he had with the older man. They'd fought back and forth so much over the amount of trust they held in each other, to now tug that curtain back into place, even just by an inch, would decimate everything they'd achieved so far.

Ianto took a deep breath, pushing his insecurities as deep within himself as possible. "I wasn't going to say that," he admitted. Jack opened his mouth, ready to question why else he would have reacted that way, but Ianto beat him to it. "Out of interest, Jack, why do I suddenly need to stay safe?" he asked flatly.

The tone clearly set alarm bells clanging in Jack's brain and he didn't immediately reply. Ianto watched with interest as the immortal's eyes flicked over his face, almost able to see the gears turning behind them. "I said it because I mean it," Jack began slowly. "I want you to stay safe. With me."

"Because I'm not aging." Ianto nodded, the feeling of dread still making his insides churn.

"Because I've realised now, more than ever, I don't want to see you hurt. I don't want to say goodbye to you yet."

Ianto bit the inside of his lip, determined not to give in and just accept so vague an answer because it was easier to do so. "What do you mean?"

From Jack's expression, the older man clearly thought the question moot. "I want you to live as long as possible. Don't you want the same?"

"Of course," Ianto agreed tightly. "But unless I stayed locked up somewhere safe where nothing could ever hurt me, the inevitable is going to happen." He shook his head, disappointed by Jack's narrow vision. "You can't wrap me up in cotton wool, Jack, and I refuse to hide myself away from the outside world just so I can live a few extra years for you."

Jack's mouth worked uselessly for a few seconds, then he clamped his jaw shut, huffing out an exasperated sigh as he did so. Taking a large step forward, he took hold of Ianto's shoulders and peered directly into his eyes. "It wouldn't be for me," he said in a low voice. "It would be for us."

Ianto blinked. "Are we an 'us' now?"

"I think we've been an 'us' for a while," Jack said, smiling wryly. He slid one hand up to Ianto's neck. "Don't you agree?"

"I thought you didn't..." He stopped, confused.

"Didn't what? Want something more?" Jack's smile grew fond. "What we want and what comes to be are sometimes two entirely different things."

Licking his lips, Ianto struggled to find his next words. He hadn't expected this, hadn't thought Jack would speak so openly about what was happening between them. He certainly hadn't expected him to admit to thinking them a couple already. "So, this isn't just about sex?" he asked bluntly.

Jack laughed. His thumb was stroking over Ianto's skin, so warm and reassuring for such a simple gesture. "Maybe it started that way, but I don't think it is anymore. At least not for me."

The last comment was spoken so casually that Ianto almost missed the faint tremor of uncertainty in his lover's voice. That, above everything else, everything they'd done and said to one another, that tiny tremble of air blew Ianto's doubts cleanly from his mind. He dropped his eyes, suddenly shy, and reached up to pull one of Jack's hands from his shoulder, twisting their fingers together. "I had a visitor earlier," he began, voice quiet despite their isolation. "The Tarot girl turned up at the flat."

"What?" Jack asked, surprised and alarmed, but Ianto tightened his grip on the other's hand to stop him breaking away.

"It's okay. She wanted to make sure I understood her reading." Ianto gave a rueful laugh. "She pretty much had to spell it out for me, but I'm glad she did." He glanced up, finding Jack's eyes instantly. "All that time, I knew I was looking for something, but I never quite knew what. Turns out it was you."

Jack's thumb resumed its stroking but he kept quiet, perhaps sensing there was more to come.

"But not because of the whole domination thing. At least not entirely. I'm not ruling out the possibility I have a real kink there," Ianto admitted, this time forcing himself not to look away. There was something rather empowering about speaking so openly; something he did so rarely concerning himself. "Anyway, I wanted, _needed_, somebody I could rely on again. Somebody I could trust."

Jack's mouth twitched upward, and Ianto realised he'd already figured that part out. "I know it's a bit of a fantasy, hoping you'll never be let down or dumped or whatever, but it...it _hurts_," he whispered, his chest tightening just at the thought of what he'd felt in the past. "And I know other people get hurt too, but-"

Jack silenced him with a kiss, just a light press over his lips to stop the quivering words in their tracks, and Ianto sighed, muscles relaxing at the comforting touch. "You're entitled to feel hurt, or upset, or anything at all," the Captain said as he pulled away. "No matter what anyone else is going through, you can't help having your own problems. You _are_ allowed to think of yourself once in a while."

It was the kind of advice Ianto would have given anyone else, yet to hear it directed towards himself simply made him feel awkward. "I don't like to be selfish," he protested weakly, to which Jack immediately laughed.

"Oh, no no," Jack rushed to assure him, seeing the wounded look on his face. "I'm laughing because you're the least selfish person I know! Well, maybe after Tosh, but still, you're high up on the list, I promise!" He moved a little closer, his presence solid and supportive, and Ianto released his hand, allowing him to slip his arm around the younger man's waist. "Listen, I'm really, _really_ glad you want to trust me, and I'll to do my best to make sure you never regret that decision. I know we can't control what happens in the future, but I can promise I won't knowingly abuse that trust."

Ianto was silent for a moment, unwittingly caught up in the dreamlike nature of the pledge. He'd heard similar things in the past, girlfriends who predicted a lifetime together or mates who swore never to lose touch, all forgotten now. He smiled sadly to himself, gaze drifting to a point over Jack's shoulder, as he recognised that no promise Jack could offer would actually be foolproof. And yet, despite that undeniable reality, he still felt inclined to believe things could be just as Jack said.

Probably because he wanted it _so_ much.

"It's too much to ask," Jack said, his eyes on Ianto's lips and reading more into their melancholic set than was actually there. "I understand. I shouldn't have-"

It was Ianto's turn to kiss him quiet and, after the initial shock had passed, Jack responded with tentative pressure. The kiss began to ease away from being chaste as Ianto sought to prove the other man's assumption incorrect, but he forced himself to stop and lean away, searching Jack's eyes once more for the true depth of his promise. Warmth spread through his body, his fears and doubts melting away as he found exactly what he was looking for.

"Prove it," Ianto said, fighting to keep his expression blank as joy seeped into the shadowy corners of his soul.

"What?" asked Jack, evidently confused by the rapid changes in Ianto's behaviour.

"Prove it's more than sex."

Jack blinked at him, struck dumb for a second, but then Ianto's smile slipped free, the Captain lunged forward and laughter filled the air.

It was only some time later, when Ianto was trapped against the cold glass tank, legs wrapped around his lover's hips, needy, aching and attempting to bear down on the hardness that teased his opening, that he realised just what they were doing.

"Not...oh...not that I'm not...ah...enjoying this," he stuttered, holding Jack's head in place to encourage the sucking that would mark his neck for all to see. "But are you really...oh God!...really trying to show me this is...uhn...more than sex...with _sex_?!"

Jack pulled back, just enough to flash him a blinding grin, and then he was sinking deeply into Ianto's heat.

"G-good point," Ianto gasped. He threw his head back, knocking it against the unrelenting glass but unable to care as light filled the darkness behind his eyelids.


	24. Epilogue

On the outside, as he waited down in the quiet car park, Ianto appeared very much the image of calm and collected. Inside, however, he was trying incredibly hard not to stare at the scratches marring the paint on and around the SUV's door handles.

It had been a few hours since he and Jack had parted ways and, although he'd been thoroughly satisfied and worn out by his lover, the memory of being taken roughly up against the cold unyielding metal of the large vehicle was starting to make things stir low in his stomach.

Dragging his gaze aside, Ianto scanned the other cars nearby, comparing them to those he'd seen the night before. All but two had left at some point in the night and another half-dozen had arrived, meaning it had reached that point in the morning when workers with early starts were beginning to drift in. Ianto glanced to the door, then his watch; they'd better get a move on, or else they'd end up drawing a lot of unnecessary attention when they dropped the Doctor and all the Kalkerifeenians off at his ship.

Much to Ianto's disapproval, the entirely normal looking door didn't conveniently open at his impatient thoughts and he turned back to examine the pair of cars that hadn't moved. Both silver, both dirty, one had a plate he recognised from about a month ago, the other he'd never seen before. He dismissed them easily as a threat; there was only so much paranoia in which he could indulge, and unless that first car came back for a third time, he didn't see any point in conducting a search on the registration number just yet.

In spite of that decision, Ianto continued to closely watch the windows, unable to stop himself imagining a person sat inside looking back at him. There hadn't been time to think about the issue of Alex in the last few hours and so he remained unsure of what to do. At the very least he knew he would have to find out where the other Welshman was and if his returning memory was actually making him behave any differently. He should probably also add Alex's face to the ever-growing list of people they'd set the city's CCTV network to scan for, although he would have to put down a different name to conceal the older man's true identity.

Ianto knew he could do all that without telling Jack, delaying the conversation he certainly didn't want to have any time soon, and then only _if_ Alex returned to Cardiff would he need to bring up the subject with the Captain. As cowardly as it felt to admit it, it was simply easier to ignore the problem as much as possible.

The door finally swung open behind him and Jack strode into sight, perfectly timed to allow Ianto to change the current direction of his thoughts. He lifted an eyebrow at the new box the Captain was carrying, much more interested in that than memories of past indiscretions, and Jack gave a dramatic pout in response. "The Doctor commandeered some more things," he grumbled.

"Nothing interesting I hope."

"If you mean dangerous and fun, then yes, unfortunately," Jack said. "He's been rooting around in the archives without supervision and now we're suffering the consequences."

"I meant more 'could aid the advance of the human race' kind of interesting," Ianto sighed, moving to open the rear of the vehicle so Jack could slide the box in beside the stack of aliens. The creatures all began to wriggle energetically at Ianto's proximity, causing Jack to chuckle and Ianto to quickly shut the door and move away again. "Apparently your kind of interesting is vastly different to mine."

"Liar!" Jack gasped. "You enjoy _plenty_ of the _things_ I consider _interesting_." He dropped enough innuendo into those few innocent words that Ianto almost groaned aloud.

"I thought you were worried about my safety," he teased instead. "But you're actually happy with me taking part in your 'dangerous and fun' practises?"

"They wouldn't be very fun without you taking part," Jack pointed out.

Ianto tutted in feigned disappointment. "No, sorry, that won't do at all." He made a thoughtful noise. "Actually I've been thinking about that, down here, waiting all on my own for _ages_," he paused to give his lover an accusatory glare, "and I've decided you're going to have to make some sacrifices."

Jack peered suspiciously at him. "Why?"

"If you _are_ concerned about me looking after myself, things would have to change."

"Uh...huh," Jack said warily. "What things?"

"Well, for starters, there could be no more fondling on the invisible lift," Ianto said, lifting his hands to check off the points. "Imagine if I fell off, there'd be a terrible mess."

"But that's my favourite way to enter the Hub!" Jack protested loudly.

"And of course it also means you'll have to indulge your whole vertigo addiction without me as well. No more rooftops, no balconies..." Ianto gave a heartfelt sigh. "And I so enjoyed the balconies. The cold air on my skin, the knowledge that anyone could look up at any moment and see us..."

Jack growled and pushed the young man back against the side of the SUV. "No way, no deal," he said, crowding into Ianto's personal space. "I am _not_ giving that up."

A chuckle escaped Ianto and he flattened his hands against Jack's belly, sliding them around his sides and onto his back, holding him close. "Thought that might change your mi-" he only just managed before Jack captured his lips in a scorching kiss.

The Captain forced his tongue past Ianto's teeth, plunging into his mouth and tasting him deeply. Ianto's own tongue slid against his, drawing it further in and then sucking on the strong muscle like a starving man. Jack moaned approvingly and grasped Ianto's head with one hand, the other dropping straight to his backside and squeezing one buttock hard enough to make Ianto buck forward into his groin, the contact sending a delicious burst of lust through them...

"Whoa! Hang on, innocent eyes. Innocent eyes!"

Ianto hastily disentangled himself from Jack and turned to their unwilling witness. "Sorry, Doctor," he said meekly, embarrassment staining his cheeks.

The Doctor removed one hand from his face, revealing an eye squeezed tightly shut, and flapped it in his general direction.

"Don't apologise to him," Jack commanded, before the Time Lord could say anything. "I'm sure he times these bloody entrances to create the most dramatic effect."

Ianto considered that for a second then narrowed his eyes at his lover. "I don't think he's the only one who does that."

Jack smirked briefly, before swaying back as the Doctor barged between them to reach the SUV's rear door. "Oi," grumbled the Captain. "People are being affectionate here."

"Oh believe me, I saw," the Doctor told him, now fumbling for the handle with his free hand whilst still keeping the other safely across his eyes.

Ianto obligingly reached over and opened it for the Doctor. "I think the last week has been the most manic in my life," he said with a sigh. "Does this always happen when he's around?"

"Always," Jack confirmed, gripping the edge of the door and swinging it firmly shut behind the man in question.

"Exciting, isn't it?!" came a muffled call from inside the SUV.

Jack pushed Ianto gently towards the other side of the vehicle. "Come on, let's get rid of him so we can get back to more important things."

"What, work?" Ianto asked innocently.

* * *

The morning sun was creeping steadily up into an icy blue sky, bright, enlivening, cheerful...but also making it _damn _difficult for Ianto to see past the Doctor's shoulder and into the darkened interior of the TARDIS.

He didn't bother to hide his intrigue as the Doctor swung the door open wider, rising a little on his toes and dipping his head this way and that to try and catch sight of anything inside, but the sunlight really was against him. Scowling, he dropped back onto his heels, only to realise the Doctor had turned in time to see his indiscreet calisthenics. "Um," he said, clearing his throat awkwardly and holding out the first two boxes of large excitable slugs for the Doctor to take.

"Would you like the tour?" the other asked dryly.

Ianto's eyes lit up and he glanced again to the shadows beyond the alien. "Could I?" The Doctor snorted softly and stepped aside, ignoring the proffered boxes so Ianto could carry them in.

Stepping through the narrow doorway, Ianto blinked a few times to adjust his eyes to the darker surroundings, then lifted an eyebrow, surprised by what he saw.

At his side, the Doctor gave a proud grin. "Go on," he encouraged. "Say it!"

It seemed terribly rude, but the Doctor _had_ given him permission, so Ianto set down the boxes on the floor and took a few more steps forward. "It's a bit...messy." He glanced at the other man, noting with amusement the expression on the Doctor's face as he mouthed '_messy?_' to himself.

Biting his lip to stop from chuckling, Ianto moved nearer to the circular console in the middle of the room, eyeing the old battered panels, the strange equipment and the blue light glowing softly behind everything. There were a multitude of levers, buttons, wires, everything imaginable, but no indication as to what any of them would do if activated. "I like it though," he declared. "Much more realistic than those sci-fi movies where everything is neat and pristine. It's kind of like the Hub really."

"Well I don't know that you could compare the two," the Doctor protested indignantly. "You haven't even seen the rest of it."

Ianto nodded towards the opening to a hallway. "Is the rest of it down there?"

"Some, yes..."

"So can I see for comparative purposes?" Ianto asked hopefully, earning an eye-roll and a playful sigh.

* * *

There wasn't time, the Doctor told him, to see everything. Not only because of the sheer number of rooms, but also because of the _hours_ it would take if Ianto kept stopping to marvel at each and every one of them. Ianto, a little ashamed of his unprofessional gawking, admitted defeat after the first couple and allowed the Doctor to lead him back to the main chamber. It took longer than it should considering the short distance they'd initially walked, which seemed to bemuse the Time Lord, but Ianto was fascinated to see at least a hint of the power hidden within the ship through that manipulation of their location.

He couldn't deny he was impressed; of course he had no experience with other space-worthy crafts, but if he were to go travelling around the stars, he could certainly see the advantages in having everything one could possibly need under one roof (as it were) and at the same time be able to access whatever was required almost immediately, without having to travel all the way across the ship for it.

"Still think they're the same?" the Doctor asked smugly as they reached the large room, folding his arms and leaning back against the round console.

"They have the same kind of atmosphere." Ianto couldn't keep his eyes still, there was so much to examine and so little he understood of what he saw. "Maybe everything else is different, but the feel of it..." He trailed off and simply gave a shrug, overwhelmed and unsatisfied that he didn't have all the answers regarding this strange new entity.

Seeking a way to divert that discontent, he decided to change the subject instead. "What's the general ruling regarding hitchhikers and stowaways?" he asked. After all, if anyone was likely to give him a frank answer on the matter, it was the person standing before him.

The Doctor's expression became faintly alarmed and he jerked his head to look over his shoulder, as though expecting to find someone standing right behind him. "On the TARDIS?" he asked, when he found nothing there.

"On anything. Any ship. Jack said it was pretty risky."

"He's right," the Doctor told him. "It is a bit dicey. Even if you go the official route, there are forms and scans and sometimes a medical." He pulled a face. "It's best to stick with people you know if possible." The Doctor considered him for a moment, head tilted pensively to the side. "You're not thinking of trying it, are you? I know I said about embracing opportunities and all but that's a bit of an extreme way to start!"

Ianto shook his head quickly in denial. "No, no, just wanted to know if he was telling the truth."

"In case of future chances to hitchhike?" the Doctor suggested slyly. "In case you're out there exploring, get into trouble and need a quick getaway?"

"Well I rather hope I'd not to get into such situations," Ianto said. "But knowing my options doesn't hurt."

The Doctor hummed in agreement and that seemed to be the end of it. Ianto glanced towards the exit, seeing that more of the boxed aliens had appeared inside, meaning Jack had continued working whilst he'd been exploring. "I'd better help Jack before he starts playing the martyr."

"What about me?" The Doctor's voice stopped Ianto in the doorway, one foot in both worlds, and he turned back around slowly.

"Sorry?" he asked, confused by the question. Did the Time Lord want Ianto to formally ask for his help moving the boxes?

"You know me." The Doctor stuck his hands into his pockets and shrugged. "Sort of."

"I don't quite follow," Ianto admitted slowly.

"You should know who you travel with," the Doctor said, repeating his earlier advice. "And you know me."

_Bloody Hell_. Ianto withdrew his foot from outside and faced the alien properly. "You...want me to come with you?" A multitude of thoughts filled his head, moving far too fast for him to fully comprehend. He vaguely noted the Doctor giving another shrug but if anything was said he didn't hear it.

The possibility hadn't even crossed his mind, but the scope of what it entailed was simply enormous! To be given the chance to traverse time and space, to see countless worlds and encounter all the things Jack mentioned only when his guard was down...it was astonishing to think that was truly being laid out before him.

Ianto licked his lips, his heart thumping with the thrill of being offered the impossible. He wanted it, he realised, wanted it _badly_ judging by the way his pulse raced and his mouth was already opening to accept, but it would mean leaving Cardiff and everything therein behind: family, friends, the Hub...

Ianto laughed suddenly, his excitement so blinding that he'd forgotten for a moment just what he was considering. Yes it would mean leaving, but leaving in a ship that travelled through _time_. He could surely be gone and back again before anyone even noticed his absence!

He could do it, Ianto admitted with ease. He could leave Cardiff so long as he knew he could come back; if only he noticed the passage of time, then there was no reason for him to think of anybody else.

Jack chose that moment to nudge him in the back with one of the clear containers. "You do make an attractive ornament," he drawled happily, "but I wouldn't say no to you helping me shift these things." He skirted around the immobile Welshman to drop the Kalkerifeenians onto the growing pile, then turned to head back outside, evidently untroubled by Ianto and the Doctor conversing without him. He slid by the younger man, far closer than was absolutely necessary, a warm smile on his face as he lightly touched Ianto's hip in passing.

Before he could get too far away, Ianto reached up and grabbed his elbow, stopping him in his tracks and drawing him back to his side.

"Hmm?" Jack asked, lifting his eyebrows in query. His hand returned to Ianto's hip, a gesture made without thought that squeezed at Ianto's fragile heart.

Unflinchingly meeting the other's eyes, Ianto examined the bright orbs, looking through to the truth beneath. There was still darkness there, doubt and secrets too grim to share, but there also remained the hint of light Ianto had noticed growing recently, the one that suggested Jack's willingness to start breaching those shadows with Ianto at his side.

He couldn't leave now he knew that existed.

Jack might not experience the separation but Ianto would, and he didn't much want to be apart from the love only just confirmed between them, leaving just one possible answer to the Doctor's offer.

_Unless..._

Ianto reluctantly tore his gaze away from his lover and glanced over to the Time Lord. "Could Jack come as well?"

* * *

~~~ The End ~~~

* * *

**A/N: Woo, it's done! Thank you so much to everyone who's stuck with this - I know I've been terrible at updating regularly over the past two(!) years. It's my own fault, I'm usually much further ahead before I start publishing but I got impatient this time -_-**

**Now, I've obviously left things rather open at the end, partly because I'm a tease and partly because there is another part to this saga (possibly two!). Ideally I'd like to go visit Jack's missing years, to see just what happened and if he deserved Lurrelia's wrath or not. Plus of course there's the problem of Alex to ultimately solve, which would follow any potential jaunt in the TARDIS.**

**To be honest, I don't know when, or if, those might be written. I have so many other fics I've started, both for Torchwood and Sherlock, and I think I need a break from the doom and gloom of this particular universe, so I might well skip to one of those instead!**

**Whatever I do next, I hope you've enjoyed the journey so far, and will look out for my other works in the near future. Thank you for reading, especially to those who have reviewed as well! I've tried to reply to everyone individually: if I haven't, I'm sorry, but thanks for your support!**


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